Revulsion
by yuuki24688
Summary: She had tried to forget what had happened in the past and her role to play in the revolt. But now, with the news of an uprising, the Generation of Miracles can no longer allow the Phantom to stay hiding. AU Fem! Kuroko
1. I : LETTER

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basket! (I want Nigou though)**

* * *

 _ **You can keep as quiet as you like, but one of these days somebody is going to find you.**_

 _ **\- Haruki Murakami**_

* * *

" _Who are the Generation of Miracles?" A girl asked, staring at her father expectantly._

 _The man chuckled, ruffling her hair. "The Generation of Miracles are our current rulers. Akashi Seijuuro of Rakuzan, Aomine Daiki of Tōō, Midorima Shintarou of Shuutoku, Murasakibara Atsushi of Yosen and Kise Ryouta of Kaijo. They are prodigious talents that come from Teiko Academy, all gifted in various subjects. Perhaps—" He said wistfully— "That was where their glory all started. From geniuses to the heroes that led the rebellion against the corrupt king, they gained victory and ascended to the throne. They are the great rulers that brought much prosperity to Teiko."_

" _Then who rules Seirin?"_

 _A glint of amusement appeared in the man's eyes as he leaned in, as if to whisper conspiratorially. "Rumour has it that the Generation of the Miracles has a phantom member of equal calibre."_

" _Phantom?" The girl asked, scrunching her nose. "What can a ghost do?"_

 _The man only laughed. "No one knows who the person is…. But for sure… They say the Phantom exists and only the Generation of Miracles know who it is. Some even say… She's a lady."_

* * *

 ** _Year XX94_**

"Kagami-kun."

The voice had whispered into his ears, its hot breath brushing against his skin and heating it up for a second, making him jump back in fright. His scarlet eyes contracted as he brought up the dagger he was polishing, only to meet a similar-looking dagger inches before it met its wielder.

A loud, sonorous clang rose into the air, a common sound that would often be heard in a blacksmith's house, except that the current one was crisper as his mock opponent skillfully parried and flicked his dagger away.

"You shouldn't try and play a game you can't win, Kagami-kun." The blue-eyed beauty commented tartly about his performance as she sheathed the dagger back into her long, billowy sleeve.

Kagami grunted. "Then make yourself more noticeable, Kuroko. I'm going to die from shock one day with the amount of times you pop out from nowhere in a year."

The said person remained unfazed by his blatant insult that her sustenance was like air.

"Likewise, I ask of you to call me by my name for the umpteenth time."

"The name Teruna doesn't sit well with me."

"I never recalled giving you a choice to call me otherwise when I hired you to be my attendant Kagami-kun."

"You did not hire me," Kagami corrected, "I tagged along because I had nothing better to do and it's not every day you see someone look like they had walked through a shower of blood in the meat locker of the butcher's three streets down."

Kuroko clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Perish that memory would you?"

The redhead smirked. "Not a chance."

Ignoring him, she continued on to her previous topic. "What were you doing Kagami-kun?"

"Polishing some blades, yours in particular." He replied, his forehead creasing as he inspected the dagger that he had just used.

"There is no need for you to be concerned about my weaponry, Kagami-kun." She said stiffly, removing the hood, revealing a dark charcoal shade in an up-do with a few odd strands framing her face. While it highlighted her deathly pale complexion and brought out her cerulean blue eyes, Kagami wasn't quite sure if that shade of hair fitted her well.

On some rare days where she would loosen her usual prim up-do, he swore he noticed the tips of her hair being a shade lighter than her eyes under the sunlight. The lady that he had accompanied for close to half a decade hardly let anyone else in, be it appearance, personality or history wise.

She always woke up before him, albeit to the fact that he preferred to sleep in. He would only rouse when the aroma of breakfast wafted towards his room where she would already be dressed to pristine perfection, hardly any flaws in sight. Always in a simple get-up that never caught attention but if anyone bothered to pay closer attention, Kuroko Teruna was indeed beautiful in her own way.

If only the enigma would smile more for a change instead of constantly being expressionless.

"If I don't, who will? On the short list of things you cannot do, polishing and sharpening your weapons happen to be one of them. For someone who carries a weapon around every day, isn't that quite odd?"

"That is quite rich coming from an all-rounded idiot." She countered.

A sweat-soaked rag was thrown at her which she skilfully dodged.

"Shut up."

Kuroko frowned as she tucked tendrils of hair behind her ear, picking up the cloth and throwing it back at his face before proceeding to move towards the kitchen to prepare dinner. He was half tempted to stick his tongue out for her failed attempt but held himself back, resigned to going back to the task at hand.

Customary silence set in as they fell into their routine, neither of them distraction one another in their own business. While the constant sounds of metal clashing and ringing against metal emitting from Kagami's work bench, occasional clatters from the kitchen would join in. Once in awhile, the redhead would look up to see her moving around the place with practiced ease, chopping a large variety of vegetables while salting the water and letting it boil.

Seeing her at peace with herself and concentrated, he would feel assured before working once more.

Yet, today was like every other day and also not the same.

"Oh right, there was a letter sent for you." Her companion suddenly spoke, snapping his fingers in realization. He hurriedly pushed aside some of his tools and a thin layer of soot to triumphantly reveal a stained grey letter bound by its elaborate red wax seal was still impossible to ignore.

Her perceptive eyes would never fail her. Her breath got caught in her throat when she saw the familiar insignia of a pair of wings surrounding the words, forcing the old memories up to the surface. She wavered for a moment in torrid attempt to force them back down once more, striding forward towards Kagami so fast that she had looked like a flash as she violently ripped the letter out of his hands and clasp it to her heart.

"You didn't read it, did you?" She asked with a chilling gaze.

"If I did, it wouldn't be sealed, would it?" He tried to say steadily, his throat feeling constricted under her sudden outburst.

Moments like this, more than any other times that she had scared him on purpose made him realize how merciful she was. Even with no element of surprise to pounce, she could still handle a man that was well towering over her. With the graceful way she handled herself, she could have ended his life a hundred – even a thousand – times over if she wished whether he was sleeping or working.

Her posture stiffened for a moment before her look of suspicion faded back to placidness. "Right," she said softly. "I'm just being paranoid, there is no way you could even reseal a wax seal like this."

His eyebrow twitched slightly. "What's that suppose to mean."

"Nothing you have to be concerned about." She avoided the subject.

Kagami gritted his teeth at her nonchalance. Eternally, she would always hide her woes and problems behind her practiced mask. He had thought time would erode the impenetrable walls that she had put up against everyone, but he seemed nowhere close to even causing a dent on them. He didn't want to pry because he knew she would only do something when it was called for and it would only make her shield even further away from him if he did.

That didn't mean his patience wasn't wearing thin.

' _Just who are you, Kuroko Teruna?'_ He asked rhetorically, his eyes never straying from her retreating figure that clambered up the stairs to her own room.

Without doubt, she was a puzzle that he had wanted to solve but he had no idea where to start.

* * *

Closing the door swiftly behind her, she quickly and silently shut the windows and curtains to her room. She lit up the oil lamp that was on her desk, cleanly breaking off the red wax seal.

With trembling fingers, she pulled out the content within; already dreading what might be written when she saw the familiar scripture that she used to long to see.

' _Time surely has changed,'_ She thought bitterly to herself, her eyes scanning the letter.

 _Dear Kuroko Tetsuya,_

 _Or is it Kuroko Teruna now?_

 _I must commend you, Kuroko, for you have exceeded my expectations once more. As expected of the Phantom, is it not?_

She scowled. "I don't want to meet your expectations."

 _You really have hidden yourself well, such that it had taken us close to a quarter of a year to locate and ensure that you were the correct person. Hiding in the outskirts of our lands and in the middle of the forsaken in the war, where our jurisdiction did not reach is quite applaudable, but the more surprising fact was that you were not caught and executed. However, it is quite naive of you to think that we might not have connections there. As you have suspected, this is not a letter of congratulations but one to send an order._

 _An absolute one that you are not allowed to reject._

 _Teiko needs you. An uprising is occurring once more and whether it is of coincidence or on purpose, you are quite near the heart of their operation. If they were to succeed, what we achieved as mere children while ascending to adulthood will be for naught._

 _Your indispensible skills will be needed once more._

 _I have to keep the details of this letter brief. Some things should only be left as verbal information and any written or engraved should be immediately disposed. However, it is a risk I am not willing to take._

 _At dawn tomorrow, my men will arrive for you to escort you to our meeting place. Do not be late. Tardiness is not pardoned, Tetsuya._

 _Akashi Senjiro  
Representative of the Teiko Council  
King of Rakuzan _

Kuroko couldn't help but involuntarily clench her fists when she reached the end of the letter, so much that she had wanted to rip the crumpled paper into shreds.

She slammed the letter onto the table, biting her lip from omitting a hoarse, frustrated scream.

Long had she knew that trying to escape her fate at the Phantom of the Generation of Miracles and Teiko Council would be impossible. She knew that she could never step out of the silent deal that was made the day she had decided to join her old comrades to overthrow the corrupt emperor. Invisible chains would always bond her to duty – the duty of disposing the unneeded, corrupted and rebellious.

Had she been more thorough with her disguise, perhaps she would have bought more time before she moved again. Alas, that was clearly not the case. The family name of 'Kuroko' was something she could never abandon, something that she had clung onto as a life support. If she threw that away, all that would be left was an ugly resonance.

She wouldn't dare not to think that there were already people watching her every move, ready to capture her if she dared to steal away at any given time. Akashi knew her too well to not know that it might be something she would attempt.

He would have sent his best men to subdue her if necessary for that was the way he ruled and ensured he was absolute.

Unlocking the lowest compartment drawer in her desk, she pulled out the dagger that she had preserved in it. She laughed lowly as she caressed the blade, feeling every groove and slight curve etched into the blade, her eyes closing as she pictured the days of old painted in fear and blood and inevitably, brutal victory.

The same victory that was hanging on the balance.

Kuroko Tetsuya had to resurface again.

And words could not begin to describe how much she loathed that fact.

...

* * *

 _And with that, the first chapter is complete!_

 _I've never changed a gender of a protagonist or wrote a Kuroko no Basket fanfic, so this is a definite first for me._

 _Offer your criticism! I'm all ears._


	2. I : DEPARTURE

**Disclaimer: If I owned Kuroko no Basket, Kuroko would have laser eyes.**

* * *

 _ **You're just another story I can't tell anymore.  
\- Anonymous**_

* * *

Dawn had come too quickly for Kuroko Tetsuya.

She had roused from her unfruitful sleep with slightly blood-shot eyes, gazing out into the still darkness of the morning.

The world around her was strangely distant; there was no rooster to call the entire village awake, or the flock of birds that would arrive soon after when dawn broke. The farmers were yet to wake up to plough the fields for the sake of a good harvest and there was little to no activity.

However, the men that were hidden behind the lonesome tree were not missed. They had brought their horses to a halt at a small green pasture for them to graze, their posture clearly directed towards her direction. Under the canopy shade of the tree and the addition of the early hours, it had made it more difficult for her to see if it was a person she had been acquaintance to that had came to fetch for her.

She sighed, thankful for the sheer fabric that she had invested in that had given her a measure of privacy even though her curtains were not drawn. Trying as much as possible to lighten the weight of her own body as she stepped towards her wardrobe to ensure the wood did not creak and wake Kagami up although he slept like a dead pig, she quickly got dressed in her simplest dress and with breeches hidden underneath. She then began to sheath her daggers at the holsters she had fashioned into her dress, breeches and boots, feeling calmer when the solidity of structure was pressed against her skin.

For a moment, she wondered if she should even care about her own appearance as she stared back at her reflection, all deathly pale and the charcoal color of her hair slowly fading away to reveal the blue tresses.

The blue-eyed lady quickly came to the decision that she did not care and was unwilling, pulling her hair into a simple bun that hid the blue, fastening it with a pin.

Satisfied, she sluggishly climbed down the stairs, only to be shocked when she realized that the lower level of the house was already dimly lit.

' _Did that idiot forget to put out the oil lamp after working overnight?'_ Kuroko thought, a spark of annoyance tugging in her mind.

She already knew that it wasn't her day but having to deal with her companion first thing in the morning certainly wasn't the most pleasant either.

' _And I don't have time to give him another lecture about fire.'_

When she reached the end of her descent, she was awfully surprised to find the redhead awake and sipping on a cup of coffee. While it was great news that he had bothered to wake up early for once, dread had immediately replaced it as it made her escape harder.

She contemplated if she should knock him out but decided against it.

"Kagami," she began lightly albeit monotonous. "Fancy seeing you awake early."

"I could direct the same sentence to you." He offered, his eyes scrutinizing her get-up. "Going anywhere any time soon?"

"Not in particular, why?"

Kagami glared at her denial. "Let's cut the chase then. Where are you going?"

"I said this last evening. It's none of your business." Kuroko calmly answered, hesitating before she added the next line. "Thank you for your concern but it's nothing you have to worry about."

"Bullshit Teruna." He countered harshly. "You don't wear boots unless we were going to travel. And last time I checked, you had no such plans until the letter you received last night."

Her cerulean eyes flashed with annoyance. "My affiliations are none of your concerns. Know your place."

The redhead slammed his coffee mug on the table before striding towards her, his steps thundering and giving her no choice but to tilt her head upwards to meet his blazing scarlet eyes fearlessly.

"Why can't you tell me? Am I that untrustworthy?" demanded Kagami. "For five years I've followed you and while you learnt everything about me, I learnt nothing beyond the surface that you had no choice but to offer. Is five years of my time not enough to prove that I have pledged loyalty to you? Would you rather I sign a contract written and stamped in my blood before you are appeased?"

A surge of guilt pierced through her.

He had offered up his world and following her without complaints, making her tattered life brighter. He did not comment when she said it was time to move to somewhere else, helping her pack while wondering what was their next destination. He did not ask or search around about her past, believing that she would tell him, even despite the fact that their first meeting was questionable. Although she would joke that no one would hire him because he was a probable idiot, in her heart, she knew that she didn't want to part with Kagami Taiga because he had been her comforting constant for the past five years.

Yet all the same, she feared that comfort. She refused to call him anything else but his family name, keeping a distance from him. She would never allow herself to slip up and show her weaknesses, although he had a countless amount of times. For heaven's sake, she didn't want him to call her by her true family name because it made her realize the severity of her attachment.

Kuroko Tetsuya knew she walked a path of carnage and difficulties and even if it meant that her record had been clean for years, the past and the vicious cycle would eventually chase after her. It just so happened that the moment was now.

Struggling to find her words, she decided to give up all the pretty white lies that she had conjured and spoke the truth.

Kagami Taiga deserved that much.

"I have to depart for awhile to somewhere else. And I would like you to come with me."

His smiled widely when she said that.

"However—"she delivered the ultimatum grimly although she wished that it hadn't exist – "I will not be held responsible for what you might learn about me and it might leave you in ruins. Knowing what I am will bind you to me for the rest of your life and you will have to take it to the grave."

"Even after hearing that, are you ready for it?" She asked softly, gazing serenely into his scarlet eyes.

Her companion merely grinned. "Did you even have to ask? Nothing can be more atrocious than your first attempt to cook anything else other than a boiled egg."

The small smile that she had plastered on stayed on her face but beneath her facade, her subconscious had only laughed cruelly with an underlying guilt.

' _If only it was truly less atrocious.'_

She had left the sentence unsaid in the depths of her mind, trying to steer her thoughts towards a better path. In need for a distraction, she glanced out of the window, finally noticing that the men outside were getting more impatient.

Sighing, she knew time truly waited no one and it was best to not drag the inevitable.

She pushed him towards the back of the house. "We set off immediately. Grab your horse, I'll meet you outside." She commanded, meeting his suspicion head on. "And I won't run away. I have to settle the issue with our guides."

Kagami nodded, understanding that he was unwanted company and if he pushed it, his companion might back out on the decision on bringing him along. Dutifully following her instructions, he headed towards the back door.

The blue-eyed lady composed herself before she treaded to the front door with much dread, at least hoping that their guides would not be utter brutes that she had to knock down a few pegs before they could proceed to their destination.

Upon seeing their expected guest exit her house, the fidgety guides beckoned her forward which she easily complied, clearly with no intention to reveal their identity in advance, hiding underneath the coverage of the tree.

Kuroko couldn't help but fiddle with her sleeves slightly, ready to trigger the hidden mechanism to release her trusty dagger. Years of undercover had honed her instincts to doubt everything; a trait that she both relied on and hated. She had learnt to never get close to anyone without checking if they had hidden intentions, to never enter their striking range unless she was absolutely sure that they were weaponless.

The men in front of her, however, had their swords prominently sheathed at their waist which really didn't exactly come off as comforting.

As she drew closer and closer towards them, she couldn't help linger in the middle of the empty road when she had finally realized who they were.

She had expected Akashi to send his best men, but she would certainly admit at the same time that she did not expect _them._

Although the light had truly been insufficient, there was no way she could mistake that specific shades of colors of hairs and eyes and the insignias engraved into their sword sheaths.

"Aomine-san? Kise-san?" She whispered lowly, her body stilling.

A ghost of a smile graced their lips as they nodded slightly, coming out from the canopy's shade, revealing their features.

Six years had done little to them, she had concluded when she scrutinized their features.

Aomine Daiki had gotten slightly tanner as the years passed and his distinct muscular look had yet to change. He still possessed his dark shade of blue hair that covered half his forehead and his navy blue eyes still held its powerful, charismatic sheen. Underneath the dark green hood he wore, she could make out a red and black military outfit, clearly suited towards the Council meeting and Tōō, the place where he was ruling.

Kise Ryouta had paler skin in comparison, with his blond hair and gold eyes that brought out the difference even further. He may not look as muscular as Aomine but he could not be passed off any less as a threat. His lean build clearly showed he preferred precision more than explosive energy and he was similarly attired, except his military outfit was white and dark blue.

"You might get run down by a cart if you keep standing there, Kuroko."

The said person snapped out her inspection, her cerulean blue eyes still unblinking as she moved towards them cautiously to meet them under the tree.

"Kurokocchi!" Kise said in delight, bringing the lady who was nearly a head shorter than him into a hug.

"Kise-san, please stop adding -cchi to my name and please let me go before I suffocate." She spoke shallowly.

When the blond-haired man felt something sharp prod lightly at where his kidney was positioned, he gulped, letting his old friend go. "Kurokocchi is way too mean." He pouted.

"And you're still as servile as ever." She quipped back, earning a snicker from Aomine.

"Kuroko, it's nice to see you again."

"Likewise, Aomine-san," she said quietly, stepping closer towards him and away from Kise.

The ruler of Tōō smirked when he saw Kise's smile fall for a moment. "What's with the black hair?"

"Disguise."

"Is that so?" He murmured, moving his hand so quickly that Kuroko barely had time to react.

In an instant, he had pulled off the pin that fastened her simple bun together, just before her hand smacked his away.

Her hair came tumbling down in waves from her head to the middle of her back, revealing the part that had lost its dye.

"There's the Tetsu I know," he noted, seeing the light shade of blue that she used to have.

The two rulers shared looks of acknowledgement for once, knowing full well that the prim and proper up-do that she previously had did not fit her at all. The Kuroko Tetsuya they knew would let her hair down whenever she could, a side effect from having extremely short hair and only tied it up in a high ponytail when they were sparring. She had always hated elaborate and restrictive hairstyles, voicing out on how it gave her scalp little air to breathe.

Among the Generation of Miracles and including their closest companions, perhaps Kuroko had been the one to change the most. When they had parted after their successful and long attempt to overthrow the corrupted king, they had been in the threshold of adulthood, merely twenty and the oldest only experiencing twenty-one summers.

Comparing to six years ago, other than her choice of her new hair colour and lack of expressions, she had clearly grown skinner from her meagre lifestyle while they had lavish ones. Her body had grown more well-proportionate as she blossomed in adulthood and despite the lack of great décolletage like Satsuki Momoi, it had fit her figure just fine.

Even Aomine with his expressive liking for bigger racks couldn't help but be appreciative of the beauty that she had became albeit to the fact that she had weak presence.

"Give it back, Aomine-san." She asked evenly, her blue eyes narrowing slightly at the darker-haired man.

Aomine ran his finger through his hair as he sighed, returning the aggravated lady her property. The pair watched as she deftly twisted her hair back into its customary bun, fastening it with the pin once more.

When he checked the hand that he had grabbed the pin with, he couldn't help but let out a loud chuckle. The pin's ends were so sharp that they drew blood with a small prick. The new Kuroko Tetsuya clearly didn't lose her edge in sneak tactics.

"So that's your real hair color huh, Teruna?" A loud voice declared from behind her, making her freeze slightly.

She glared at Aomine and Kise, warning them to keep their mouths shut and not reveal anything. They had raised their eyebrows quizzically, as if to silently ask how much the man behind her didn't know.

From what they had deduced easily, clearly it wasn't much. He had called her by a pseudo name and he didn't even know her real hair colour, for heaven's sake.

"Akashicchi won't be happy about the extra company," Kise warned.

"He probably already has it considered." Kuroko replied stiffly. "Also, he did not specify if I was to come alone or not. Kagami is my attendant, so he stays."

"Attendant?" Aomine couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter. "He looks pretty weak to me."

Kagami narrowed his eyes at him. "And what about you, Ganguro? You don't look strong either."

The blond-haired man couldn't help but pale for a second before laughing hysterically at Kagami's choice of insult, holding the tree trunk for support as he shook. Kuroko merely shook her head, knowing that today was the day that his hotheadedness would wind up having him dead.

"What did you say, pointy eyebrows?"

"I said Ganguro, are you deaf now too?"

Sword withdrawn, Aomine had the sword poised and ready to strike, an evil grin on his face. "Say that one more time and it'll be your last words."

"Gang-gu-ro." The redhead (that should be renamed as hothead in Kuroko's opinion) enunciated slowly as he withdrew his sword from its sheath, eye alight with excitement at the prospect of a fight.

"I bet half a minute he will have his ass handed to him, Kurokocchi." Kise choked out in the midst of his laughter. This was truly too priceless for him. Not many wanted to agitate the Generation of Miracles and seeing how Kuroko's companion immediately insulted the equally hot-headed ace amongst them, he had already landed in his good books.

"How much?" Kuroko asked indifferently as she looked at the pair clash.

"A thousand pounds." Kise confidently declared, looking at how Kagami was already losing.

"I bet fifteen seconds."

Just as swiftly as the two who had drawn their weapons, Kuroko took out Kise's sword that was conveniently at her side, dashing in to parry both their blows expertly while exposed to minimal of their explosive pressure. She had quickly dropped the sword soon after, moving in to disarm Aomine first with the element of surprise that she still had and then pressing the pressure point on Kagami's still flailing wrist, making him drop the sword. She had quickly dropped her body to target the back of their knees with a clean sweep, officially making them plod on the floor.

"Pay up, Kise-san." The blue-haired lady mocked with impassive eyes as she dusted herself off, leaving all three men dumbfounded.

The two rulers however, looked more horrified. ' _She perfected her art of surprise.'_

"What was that for, Kuroko?" Kagami grumbled, oblivious to the looks that the other two men had sent the woman.

"I don't want to have to bury anyone before we arrive at our destination." She replied coldly, "Unless I'm the one doing the killing."

The three men shivered.

"Kise, you forgot the golden rule." Aomine commented lazily when he lay back on the ground.

"What?"

He glanced up at the blond-haired man, his eyes suddenly looking so wise. "Don't ever bet against Kuroko when she has the element of surprise."

Kise began to speak. "Unless its—"

The blue-eyed lady jabbed his rib with the handle of sword, effectively cutting off his words.

Kagami gave a few quiet choices of curse words when Kise had stopped breaching the subject. ' _Of all rotten luck,'_ he had thought sadly, ' _he was forced to stop when another of Teruha's weaknesses were going to be revealed.'_

"Shall we head off to the designated place?" Kise asked absent-mindedly as he rubbed the sore spot of his ribs. He guessed he should be grateful that she had only bruised it because he was pretty sure she knew the correct angle and force to break one easily.

Aomine nodded in consent. "Before Akashi kills us—"he gestured towards the further end of the pastures—"Kuroko, your steed is over there."

She couldn't help but let a large smile envelop her features when she saw the black horse that she always tended to choose as her mount.

Like an excited child she rushed towards it, caressing its beautiful mane, leaving the men speechless once more at her rare smiles. The horse had neighed in reply as if his rightful owner had returned, making her smile even brighter as she whispered his name.

However, the time she had smiled was very brief. As if something had struck her, her expression quickly morphed back to the default, all her emotions suppressed forcefully as she mounted her horse.

The trio narrowed their eyes at her sudden change, not knowing how to take it all in.

' _Something happened,'_ They had all simultaneously thought as they mounted their respective steeds, ' _and I'm going to find out what stole her smile away.'_

"Let's go."

...

* * *

 _I was rather... shell-shocked? To find that the story was rather well-received. Thank you to anyone who has favored/followed this story.  
Frankly, this was a spur of a moment thing that bloomed into whatever it may be in the future, influenced by the countless of good fanfictions I read.  
Criticism is appreciated._


	3. I : ARRIVAL

**Disclaimer: I own nothing in the story! ... Except the plot.**

* * *

 _ **We can draw lessons from the past - but we cannot live it.  
\- Lynson B. Johnson**_

* * *

The moment they had reached the gates of their destination, Kagami had already concluded that the villa Aomine and Kise were talking about was _definitely_ not a villa.

Because if the monstrosity of a structure in front of him was a villa, then the house he had resided in should be described as a hut instead of a two-storey house.

Judging the distance from the gold plated gates they stood by, the distance in between was at least half a mile. Lush greenery filled the space in between; much of it occupied by dozens of different flowers planted all around to create an almost intoxicating scent. The pathway towards the compound was oddly tiled with a mixture of smaller and bigger pebbles varying in shades of grey, meshing well with the nature that surrounded it.

In the middle of the garden stood a marble white fountain that the pathway looped around, with a majestic statue of an angel cupping its palms together towards the skies as if in prayer. Water poured out from its hands in steady streams. If one had an eye for detail, they would notice that the angel had a lone tear trickling down its cheek in contrast to its bright smile.

However, even with its supposed earth-shattering beauty, the angel was not the main attraction.

Behind it rose a towering mansion made out of grayish-white bricks, tiled {up to} at least three floors high excluding the attic, its exterior relying on the simplicity and dull contrast in color to stand out. Only the middle building protruded out more than the rest, forming a 'T' shape.

The uniform and immaculate structure was finished off with triangular roofs, jutting out after every row of windows, giving the impression that the villa as was taller than it seemed. As dusk approached, painting the sky in darker hues, it was obvious to the group that there were already guests situated in the mansion, for its lights shone through the well-polished window panes.

The guards standing outside, upon receiving consent, had pulled open the double gates and ushered all four of them in. They quickly urged their horses into a sprint, wanting to seek comfort before the coldness of the night set in.

When they were a good distance away from the guards, Kise spoke.

"Akashicchi is way too flashy."

"I don't want to hear that coming from you, Kise; you have the largest palace out of all of us. I wouldn't be surprised if you had shrines built dedicated to yourself." His dark-haired companion snapped.

"I didn't commission for those shrines to be built."

"You actually have them?"

"I'm just joking!" Kise pleaded.

Meanwhile the redhead, still star-struck by the scene before him, muttered his thoughts out loud. "What kind of people are you mingling with, Teruna?"

"The ostentatious kind. "

Their guides scowled.

' _Has he really not figured out who we are yet, though?'_ The two rulers wondered, glancing at one another.

Were their military uniforms on which their affiliations emblazoned not obvious? Did he not at least notice how expensive the fabric they wore was? Or that the person he was serving under was way too skilled with the dagger for a mere commoner?

The unspoken question hung in the air.

Judging from his awed (and awfully stupid) expression, the redhead clearly had not.

In the short span of several hours to travel to their destination, Kise had quickly been able to understand how Kagami hadn't figured anything out in six years. He was undoubtedly a huge idiot who loved swordplay and had admirable, unwavering loyalty towards Kuroko. The latter was his only selling point; when it came to swordplay, he was no contest for the Generation of Miracles, even if he did cut quite close.

And in terms of intelligence, he was lacking far _far faaaaaar_ too much.

That was no exaggeration. The redhead was a literal meat head even when he was compared to the equally obsessed Aomine Daiki.

In spite of his shortcomings, only Kagami had noticed how Kuroko's eyes became a level colder as they moved towards their destination, and dread almost seemed to ooze out of her very being. Her previously more relaxed posture had become more rigid and seemed to be more unsociable than usual.

There were little to no snide monotonous remarks thrown out by her, which was atypical for the blue-haired lady who occasionally enjoyed ripping at people, especially if it was at his expense. She seemed occupied in the darkest depths of her own mind, a place he could never quite reach.

He learnt long ago that no one could.

Behind the high walls and iron cast doors she hid, in the shadows of her interior black box. No one could get in unless she wanted them to, and the things she kept inside would never get out. She was her own secret and guard dog, and armed with her blank expression and mocking words, making sure no one could figure Kuroko Teruna out.

Kagami snapped out of his reverie when they arrived at the front door, glazing his eyes over the ivy-decorated building.

This was where he was promised answers. He wondered what he might find.

A flurry of activity occurred the moment they got off from their horses.

From the set of maids and butlers that had been waiting for their arrival, several had approached them to take their horses. The rest stared ahead, their eyes focusing on the perpetual north, none of them moving an inch as the slight breeze blew against their clothes.

Equidistant from both ends of the line, a butler with a sliver badge pinned to his tailcoat stepped out, clearly the mouthpiece of the group.

"We have expecting you, my Lords. Welcome to the Rakuzan-Seirin Villa. It is an honor to receive you." The head butler bowed graciously.

The attendant and the dark-haired ruler glared at the butler.

Their blond companion, who was more composed than the other two, only sighed internally, coughing lightly as he directed his gaze towards Kuroko.

Shock flitted across the butler's face when he caught a glimpse of Kuroko standing at the side. It was truly insulting for someone who had spent decades in his profession to mess up on the salutations and head count. Even more so, it perplexed him as to why he had failed to see the only lady in the group.

Hastily, he bowed once more, but this time in shame. "My apologies for not addressing you, my lady."

"At ease," she replied in her usual cold, clipped tone, making the butler flinch as if he had received admonishment.

The entire line of staff seemed equally shocked; they would never had known that she was there had the ruler of Kaijo not directed their attention towards her.

The most curious part of it all was that the lady still had her head cloaked, which spoke in volumes of how much social etiquette she lacked. Yet at the same time, she carried herself with equal grace as her companions did, proving their previous impression otherwise. Wisely, they chose not stare and kept their speculations to themselves.

Recovering easily from his previous mishap, the head butler ushered them into the villa. "My master requests for your presence at the conference room, my lordships and lady."

The group nodded in confirmation, heading into the villa through the large double mahogany doors.

The moment they entered, Kuroko couldn't help but falter slightly in pace when she saw the center piece. A large portrait of the entire group laughing without a care in the world back in their Academy days filled the space of the foyer's back wall, reminding her of what things had been like. Vibrant colors filled every inch of the piece, their expressions and postures extremely realistic, as if it had been painted from memory.

She didn't remember if they had commissioned for such a piece in the past or it had been developed from a sketch, but its beauty could not reach her already cold heart. In fact, it had left her usually emotionless self slightly bitter.

On the other hand, her companions had different reactions. While Aomine and Kise looked at the picture fondly, their minds dredging up the good memories of the past, Kagami looked at it in wonder.

Even if it was a picture, it was still amazing to see the Teruna he thought he knew looking so… _alive_.

The redhead looked back and forth between the portrait and the person herself, trying to find the similarities, suddenly wishing – almost begging – that she would smile the same way she did then. To his disappointment, all he saw were emotionless eyes, ones that seemed so empty and bottomless.

Suddenly, a soprano voice cut through the silent foyer.

"Midorin, do you think she will really come? It's been so long after all."

A bubbly, pink-haired lady entered their view as she descended the stairs backwards, attired in a slim fitted black and red military uniform but with a shorter skirt above her breeches.

The green-haired man sighed, pushing up his glasses. "Momoi, please stop calling me Midorin. And I don't –"He dragged out the last syllable, his eyes widening when he took in the crowd that had just arrived.

Momoi, inquisitive to what had riled such a reaction, turned around, falling silent almost instantaneously.

"Satsuki."

"Momocchi!"

A loud silence filled the air as Kuroko and Kagami refused to speak.

"And…?" Said person whispered out hoarsely, her eyes fixated on the cloaked figure, her mind already connecting the pieces.

Kuroko sighed, knowing that she could no longer delay the inevitable.

She pushed back her hood, greeting the pair on the stairs. "It's been awhile, Momoi-san, Midorima-san."

The greenhead froze in reaction to the person.

Momoi clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle her sobs, absorbing the sight before her through tear-filled eyes. She trudged down the steps one at a time, choking out the words she had longed to say in disbelief. "Tetsuya…."

Within the next few seconds after her feet had touched the ground floor, she had crossed the room and pounced onto her old friend, her fierce emotions transmitting into a bone-crushing hug.

"You're alive. You're really alive. The reports really weren't lying." She rasped out, laughing happily.

"It's good to see you again, Momoi-san," Kuroko murmured.

The bystanders looked away from the heart-warming scene, feeling like it wasn't their place to witness it. The moment had felt too raw and surreal even to them, that Kuroko Tetsuya was just an arm's reach away and not just an imaginary figure that existed in their minds and paintings.

Aomine and Kise had gone through the same relief and joy when they first saw her before the appointed day, having had to suppress every instinct to not run up to her and engulf her in an embrace. Or perhaps, they deduced, it was disbelief that kept them rooted to the ground, too scared to approach her in fear that she was all nothing but a mirage.

To have been able to finally interact with her had washed away the years of resentment that her hiding away from them had wrought, for all they could feel was gratitude that she was no longer just a regret.

After a minute of truly ensuring that her old friend was alive and well, Momoi pushed the blue-eyed lady back, scrutinizing her entire appearance.

"You've grown thinner, Tetsu-chan."

Kuroko shrugged in reply.

"It's enough consolation that she is well and alive, Satsuki."

She turned towards the trio in annoyance. The stupid dark-haired man just _had_ to ruin their reunion.

Pink eyes spitting flames, she retorted back. "You four head to the conference room first. I have things to discuss with her."

Without even waiting for their reply, the elated pink-haired beauty had already yanked her close friend upstairs and into her room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Aomine groaned at her fiery attitude. Knowing her mannerisms, he figured it would take at least half an hour before they saw either of them again.

"Aominecchi, we have to change out of our cloaks or else Akashicchi will be annoyed. And I think it's best if we found him—"he jutted a finger at the unruly redhead— "A more presentable outfit. His clothes make him look lesser than a servant."

"I'm still here, you know."

Aomine gave Kagami a one-over. "Agreed."

The pair nodded to one another before they each hooked an arm through Kagami's, utilizing their combined effort to drag him upstairs. The red-eyed attendant could only violently protest as he struggled to escape, only to get a smack in the head from the two rulers as a reply.

Midorima only shook his head at the helpless attendant, heading to the conference room first.

* * *

"What is with this outfit?" Kagami grumbled.

He thought he looked ridiculous in this the ensemble. It came quite close to the military uniform they were wearing except it was mostly white, with red and black as its side colors. Although it had fitted him creepily well and was made to allow large movements, he still felt like the collar pressed against his throat a tad bit too much.

All in all, he felt incredibly out of place, separated from the simple lifestyle he had just hours before.

"Why are you complaining?" Kise responded with equal fervor. "You look decent, not like a the homeless person you previously were, Kagami."

"If it means having to wear this every day, I would rather be a homeless person."

"But sadly, you don't have a choice."

Aomine looked lazily at him, wondering to himself why he had decided to put himself up to deal with an idiot. Wanting to end the stupid argument sooner, he spoke. "Here's a tip since you're Kuroko's attendant, Kagami. You can't afford to make an enemy of anyone you meet here."

"I know."

"You do?" The two asked, as if they couldn't believe what they were hearing.

"What do you think me as, an idiot?"

They shot him skeptical looks. Had they not hinted enough about their impression of him?

"He is truly a Bakagami…." Aomine muttered under his breath.

Kise concurred silently.

The three men piled out of the door soon after, heading to the conference room.

Compared to the redhead, the two rulers had strode into the room confidently like they were right at home, while he looked like a bumbling idiot, being extra cautious of everything. He knew that he was not suited to such situations; possessing an aura of an uncouth beast rather than a one of regality.

Part of him regretted coming to this place.

From his observations of Teruna over the past few years, he knew she came from the upper echelons. She looked so graceful doing anything, even making the brutal martial arts look like it was an effortless dance as she changed from one movement to another. But coming here with her had made their differences even more resounding.

He did not belong in her previous world.

He feared to be an embarrassment to her.

Kagami Taiga did not want to tarnish her good reputation because of his own lack of knowledge for the things she thrived in.

Helplessly, he followed their lead and into the room, slightly surprised when he saw how airy the room was.

In the large room, a chandelier hung overhead, casting a dim glow on the entirely white interior. The four pillars that were an unimportant distance away from the wall supported the weight above the room and had intricate swirls carved expertly into them. Being an artist himself, he could only sigh in admiration about the good craftsmanship and the complexities of the design.

The walls, unlike the hallways of the villa, were not plastered with decorum. Large wide-set windows dominated most of the walls that faced the garden, with a set of glass doors that allowed easy access to the nature outside.

A large round table made out of bianco calacatta marble had created an impression of grey cracks running across the table in different directions, creating a natural flair and appeal for the furniture. It took up most of the area in the room, only leaving some standing and walking space. The chairs were draped with a white fabric, complementing the table well.

However, his perusal of the room was cut short.

Literally.

Purely based on instinct, he had slanted his head to one side, his pupils contracting as he felt a sharp wind breeze past his face.

A sharp thud was heard soon after as the flying object embedded into the wooden door.

Kagami felt warm blood trickle out from the new wound he could barely feel, suppressing his conscious urge to check the cut. Instead, he lowered his head to glare challengingly at the thrower.

In the perpetuator's hands was another pair of scissors that he spun around his finger, his heterochromia eyes judging the man before him. His mouth had curled down in disdain, as if the very sight of him was repulsive.

"Last time I recalled, I did not allow an unauthorized and unnamed personnel to enter."

"Tch." The victim bit back a coarse remark.

"Akashicchi, he's Kurokocchi's attendant."

The ruler of Rakuzan raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? He doesn't seem worthy to me."

"Whether is he worthy or not is not up to you to decide, Akashi-san." A soft voice called out, anger evident in her tone.

The entire room turned towards the two ladies that entered.

Akashi narrowed his eyebrows at her speech of defiance. "Kuroko."

* * *

 _First and foremost, I would like to thank my AMAZING beta reader **Sapphyre Lily** (I insist you check out her works that are as great as her skills) for accepting the gruesome task of beta-reading my work.  
Second - The updates for this fanfiction will vary from one to three times a week. On really really bad weeks, none.  
_

Next I would like to thank all of you - great and holy readers alike for reading this story.  
If you have favored or followed this story, double salutations and omega good job!  
To the guest (or whom this may concern): Romance is a genre that I MIGHT touch on, but its nothing constant. Even if there is, the story won't revolve around it. Sorry to be a Debbie Downer to any of your expectations.

 _And again. THANK YOU :D  
Criticisms/Thoughts are welcomed.  
_


	4. I : MEETING

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Basketball Which Kuroko Plays (this is one long english name)**

* * *

 ** _"…everything has a past. Everything – a person, an object, a word, everything. If you don't know the past, you can't understand the present and plan properly for the future."  
_** ** _― Chaim Potok, Davita's Harp_**

* * *

"I happen to like my attendant well and alive, Akashi-san." Kuroko said.

The Phantom, in all her glory, looked _livid_.

It didn't take a genius to sense the anger that boiled beneath her skin, although her expression held no disdain for her target. It was only within her eyes that blue fire blazed sky high, nailing the act of intimidation to the tee.

With the charcoal black dye forcefully washed out, her slightly damp teal hair cascaded down one side of her face and marginally covered an eye. Yet with only a narrow difference of shades between her hair and irises, the colours complemented each other nicely, making her usually dull eyes insurmountably bright.

Her military uniform - consisting of mostly black, red and white - stuck to her like a second skin, bringing out the curves that she usually hid with her baggy, comfortable dresses. A sword and a dagger were sheathed at her side and notably on her right thigh was a pocket fashioned for the storage of another dagger. The former weapon had thinned out to nearly the width of a rapier, clearly favoring speed over explosive strength.

If it had been the past Kuroko Tetsuya they knew back then, she'd have adopted theatrics and smiled with saccharine sweetness before she struck mercilessly. But the current Kuroko Tetsuya was blunt; she no longer cared whether others had a favorable impression of her.

"I will let him off this once," Akashi said deferentially. "As I expected, you came."

"I would have sent a formal letter of rejection, but you threatened to burn down my house. There was no room for negotiation." She deadpanned.

 _P.S. I will use any measure to retrieve you, even if it means burning down your house._

"If you are known for anything, Tetsuya—" he cocked his head to the side in acknowledgement— "It would be your stubbornness."

"I prefer to call it persistence," she scoffed, pulling out the embedded scissors a tad bit too harshly, such that a few splinters of wood flew out along with it.

Just as quickly as she executed her previous action, she placed the scissors on the table and swiped it back to its owner. Akashi smirked slightly at her reaction, stopping it inches before it impaled into his body.

Their audience could have sworn that the room started hailing. Neither party wanting to step down or recall their unsaid death threats, and there was no victor in sight.

"That's enough, both of you." Satsuki Momoi called out, patting the blue-haired lady's shoulder.

Kuroko stiffened slightly at her gesture but agreed to her judgment. She signaled for Kagami to stand at the side of the room with the other attendants , moving towards the seat beside Aomine rather than the empty one next to Akashi.

The pink-haired lady coughed once before she commenced the meeting.

"To get formalities out of the way first}before the actual agenda, I would like to thank everyone for attending the 548th Teiko Council meeting. In respect to the new members who are unfamiliar to with our procedures, I will introduce everyone first. I am Satsuki Momoi, secretary of the affairs of for Teiko Council, the stand-in coordinator of affairs for Seirin and attendant to Aomine Daiki.

"Going clockwise, in which all rulers are the members of the Generation of Miracles:  
Ruler of Rakuzan and Head of Teiko Council, King Akashi Seijuurou and his attendant Mayuzumi Chihiro.  
Ruler of Yosen, King Murasakibara Atsushi and his attendant Himuro Tatsuya.  
Ruler of Shuutoku, King Midorima Shintarou and his attendant Takao Kazunari.  
Ruler of Kaijo, King Kise Ryouta and his attendant Kasamatsu Yukio.  
Ruler of Tōō and Vice-Head of Teiko Council, Aomine Daiki.  
Finally, supposed Ruler of Seirin and Phantom of the Generation of Miracles, Kuroko Tetsuya and her attendant, Kagami Taiga."

Kagami couldn't believe his ears.

He had felt like someone had slashed him open.

Did she ever place a shred of trust in him? Why couldn't she even be truthful about her name? And why did an esteemed person like Kuroko Tetsuya lower herself to the condition that he had once seen before?

Hurt filled his eyes as he turned away, unable to look at the eyes that pleaded for him to understand.

"I am not the Ruler of Seirin." Kuroko commented, finally giving up on catching her attendant's attention.

"The title was bequeathed to you a long time ago. You just never claimed it." Akashi replied.

"I humbly reject the title."

The ruler of Rakuzan furrowed his brows in displeasure. "Running away from your responsibilities again?"

His heterochromia eyes moved towards Kagami Taiga for a nanosecond.

"I'm not worthy of it." She replied stiffly, blatantly refusing to acknowledge his double meaning.

"Kuro-chin, what's wrong with you ruling Seirin? Haven't you always spoken of wanting to rule your own home state when the rebellion was over?" Murasakibara asked.

Midorima pushed up his glasses. "I would concur to that notion. Why the sudden change of heart?"

"You can't force me to accept it," said Kuroko. "No one would accept a Queen and no one would bat an eyelid for someone who didn't contribute to the rebellion."

Aomine laughed at her last statement. "Putting yourself in the middle of the enemy's territory and gathering information isn't contributing? Don't kid yourself, Tetsu. Out of all of us, you deserve such a title the most."

"Shall I add killing the key leaders to my resume then, Aomine-san?" She snapped sarcastically.

The entire room instantaneously fell silent.

"I don't want to be here. I didn't come here to receive titles or be awarded for the infernal past." Kuroko said in miserable defeat. "The fruit of victory often tastes like ashes and blood in my mouth. I only came here because I don't want the people to suffer at the hands of conflict anymore. As a victim of one, I should know that much. I intend to go back into hiding when all this is over. Teiko doesn't need a phantom because it's nothing but a reminder of the blood that has been shed."

They couldn't help but look at her with hooded eyes.

In their hearts, no matter how calculative and defensive they were, they could not ignore her views. She, in the truest sense, was the mirror of the entire conflict, having witnessed both ends of the spectrum of victory and defeat. What they had felt was essentially doubled for her.

Her ruin was partially the result of the schemes that they had conjured to conquer the land.

Tearing her eyes away from her friend, Momoi spoke again. "For today's agenda, we will discuss countermeasures to go against the rebels and identify the possible places to gain concrete information from. By all means possible, we are to limit the losses of every state."

After her speech, she placed a well-drawn map of the Teiko country on the table.

It was nothing short of a work from Satsuki Momoi; incredibly detailed, drawn with minimal errors and with all the relevant markings. From the rolled parchments of similar size standing in the corner of the room, it was clear that each was suited to various needs, be it agricultural expansion or significant places of tourism.

The current one had circles strewn all over the place with smaller notes annotated next to them. The attendants crept closer to have a better look, Takao even whistling out loud, for the work of the secretary never failed to impress him.

"We need more authority in the outskirts of Teiko," Akashi declared, pointing at the places where there were the symbols for a riot. They lined along the borders of their rule, but it was still considered within their territory.

Kuroko sighed internally, standing up to add her views on the places he had pointed to once more.

"The people in the outskirts are always usually the first group the rebels would seek. Ours was an exception because we already had considerable power in the higher rankings. In the outskirts where your rule doesn't reach, neither does the trade, waterways and recent inventions. Their ways of agriculture are terribly outdated and most of them are subsistent. The most demoralizing part is, that they can't move away from it because their literacy and education rates haven't increased in the last few decades. The distance between the monarchy and its people will only continuously increase."

"Thus –" she pulled out some books that she had asked Momoi to bring in advance, and pointed at the bit of information she was referring to— "we should seek to expand the waterways first. Their dependency on the inconsistent rainfall directly affects their harvest. I've tried out some agricultural rotations with a few villages, even planting short term plants that break down quickly as fertiliser for more arable land, and persuading them to plant new crops that would last longer. However, with the lack of water in some parts, it does mess with the experiment. It would be even better if merchants could invest in the region by providing them with more domestic animals, which will substantially increase the amount of land they can till. In return, the merchants can receive a portion of the harvest to trade and export. It would also give the people a more stable lifestyle to lead."

' _And she says she's not fit to rule….'_ Everyone thought simultaneously.

But for sure, no one, not even the attendants who had had doubts, doubted that she was worthy of the title she was supposed to have received. Under her long novel-like speech which seemed out of the ordinary, they could see the amount of thought that had gone into it, filled with genuine care for her people.

She did not fear sharing her knowledge. In fact, she was more than willing because they were the best people in the country that could bring her plans to life.

"However, by using mutualism to help the people of the outskirts, it increases the unstable factors where they could be exploited because they might not have a sharpened business sense. Having a middleman will not help change the situation unless they are reliable. Unless—"

"Unless the higher officials bought them first and set a standard market price." Midorima finished for her.

"Exactly," said Kuroko, rare excitement lacing her tone.

"Here's a question, Kagami." Takao whispered while the main conversation carried on.

"What?" He muttered distractedly, his inner emotions still conflicted between being proud and incredibly despaired.

"How long has Kuroko been studying this topic?"

"Since I met her… So five years?"

"She's more dedicated than Shin-chan."

' _Shin-chan? Who's that?'_ He wondered, directing his attention back to the main table.

"But all these plans are long-term and with loss before benefit." Akashi frowned, not denying that she had great plans.

"Benefits that come later, greatly outweigh the losses and will continue to increase," She corrected.

"But Tetsu-chan, we need to minimize the loss right now before the rebels get out of hand."

"We could just purge them with brutal force." Aomine said.

Kise rejected the idea. "Then we will be like the old king, Aominecchi."

The rest nodded in agreement.

"Don't rule your people because you have to." The blue-eyed lady muttered in monotonous frustration. "Rule your people right because you love them or else you'll never hear what they are saying.

"Akashi-san, while your rule is perfect and absolute, it is also incorrect. To succeed and ensure that you retain it, you stick to too many traditional methods. You are in the strictest sense a conformist; not towards caving to the general public's opinion but adamant in your way of doing things. That itself puts a restraint on your people and makes them angry. Aomine-san, you spend way too much on the military and on schools that support swordplay. Defence without economic back-up is nothing. You'll just be wasting your resources and revenue in the long run."

Momoi looked at her childhood friend as if to say 'I told you so', making the dark-haired ruler look away in annoyance.

He knew he had serious reviewing to do after the meeting, especially since his attendant's view was strongly supported by yet another person.

Midorima only smirked from the sidelines. ' _Well, she only said what most people have been trying to say for a long time.'_

Eyes filled with newfound respect stared at her, making her feel extremely self-conscious. Panic rose within her as she reflected back on the whole meeting thus far.

Why was she acting like this? Had she not learnt from her previous mistakes?

It was too unlike her.

Her expression blanked out the moment she came to a conclusion.

"Kuro-chin really thought a lot into this…." Murasakibara commented as he chewed on a cupcake that he swiped from somewhere while flipping through the elaborate notes that she had made.

' _But these writings look like the desperations of a mad man whose entire life depended on it to_ _complete it_ _be completed.'_ Kise noted, inspecting another.

While they were grateful for her input, they couldn't help but feel like there was something terribly off about the fact that she knew so much. Far too much for a single person to have achieved in such a short amount of time.

From the several books that were piled on the table and the others that could certainly be found in her room, none of them were lacking. She had exceeded all expectations, halving the time and completing several other tasks where a regular person would have required at least a decade to achieve the same accomplishments. Even if she had free time and reign, there had to be a limit, even for alarming monsters of miracles like them.

They could try to push back the thought or disagree with themselves, but they could not help but reach one uncomfortable question that made them feel like the realities of the past would collapse if they truly tried to find out:

Why did Kuroko Tetsuya seem so dead?

...

* * *

 _And that's a wrap for Chapter 3~!  
Thank you to my amazing Beta Reader Sapphyre Lily again!  
She makes my original draft look like a masterpiece (of errors) with the amount of red she uses.  
And to the Guest: I just did ;)_

Loved it? Hated it?  
Any thoughts or criticism to offer? Tell me about it ;D


	5. I : VERGE

**Disclaimer: If I owned Kuroko no Basuke, every character would be a tortured soul.**

* * *

 _ **"Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth."  
**_ _ **― Oscar Wilde**_

* * *

The Generation of Miracles, clearly looking too disturbed by their own thoughts to continue the discussion, caused Satsuki Momoi to sigh.

While everyone _seemed_ consumed by the books that they held, each pertaining to different subjects, only the attendants, who were all but oblivious to the dilemma that their rulers faced, were actually absorbing the knowledge that they were reading.

Murasakibara didn't even bother to put up an act and was just staring at Kuroko in open curiosity. Midorima and Kise were mindlessly flipping through their respective books. Aomine hadn't even flipped a single page since his own realization, glaring at the book so hard that it might go up in flames. Akashi, despite looking the most natural out of everyone present, still had a fatal flaw: for every three pages progress, he would flip two pages back.

And Kuroko, equally absorbed in her own world, stared at the white walls with impassive eyes.

The secretary glanced out of the windows in exasperation, frowning as she realized how late it was. Night had already started to set in as the lighter colors of the sky gradually disappeared with the sun, turning the world outside into inky darkness.

' _Well, let's at least end the meeting on a good note before dinner.'_

She clapped her hands twice to gain their attention. "Since it'll take us a while before we completely read through Tetsu-chan's elaborate plans, shall we postpone that discussion to tomorrow and carry on with information finding first?" Momoi suggested.

The majority agreed to her decision and snapped their respective books shut, gathering close to the table once more.

"Satsuki, we already narrowed down the places we should search, remember?" Aomine reminded her while sending the book another scorching glare, with a silent promise of another stare off soon.

She paused when she realized he spoke the truth, knocking her head with her fist sheepishly. "My bad, my bad."

"That's nothing to fret about, Momocchi. We just need to find trustworthy sentries to investigate, there's nothing difficult about that."

A taped hand slapped his head. "You're too naive, Kise. Have you learnt nothing from ruling Kaijo for the past five years? How is your economy even holding up?"

Kasamatsu guffawed when he overheard the green head's first statement. His demeanor, however, took an immediate one-eighty when he heard the latter half, feeling offended for the state that he was born and bred in.

The rest voiced similar sentiments of disdain.

"Espionage for information takes years, Kise." Akashi began sharply. "It doesn't end when the short-lived conflict ends. Without the skills and knowledge to back it up, it would be tantamount to sending a person to their grave. I ask of you to restrain your words before I _help_ you to."

Kise cowered at the Emperor's reprimand while the attendants gave him an odd look at his overreaction.

The rest of the table stayed mute, their eyes turned away from the ruler of the Rakuzan almost guiltily. They knew very well where his sensitiveness of the subject had spurred from, but none of them were willing to risk calming the angered redhead to save their blond comrade, as they shared the same sentiments.

"Do we have any possible candidates? We can source out the best to places with a higher risk. If there's nothing to gain from the area, we can relocate them elsewhere." Momoi abruptly cut in, trying to lift the tense atmosphere.

"Sakurai?" Someone absent-mindedly said.

"He would apologize to the rebels for spying."

"Izuki?"

"His reports would come back punified. We don't have the time to solve riddles."

"Hayakawa?"

"When you understand what he is saying rather than just the gist of it, speak to me about it again."

"Muro-chin?"

"Stop volunteering your attendant, Mukkun."

"Mayuzumi then."

Satsuki pondered for a second. "He has the skill set, but Akashi-kun needs him."

"Take Takao, I don't need him." Midorima offered.

His attendant didn't even look offended. He only winked at them conspiratorially and mouthed: 'Shin-chan is being a tsundere.'

The secretary slammed her hand on the table in annoyance. "Will you take this seriously?!"

"I will go." Kuroko deadpanned.

"No," the entire table said in unanimous opposition, varying from resolute determination to exclamations.

"We will not risk you disappearing the face off Earth again, Tetsuya. Once is enough." Akashi conveyed frostily.

"And yet, here I am, well and alive. It proves that I have experience and the skill set needed to complete this task. Isn't that the requirement?" She pressed on stoically.

"You will not defy my word."

"It would not be defiance when you would eventually agree to it on your own. If there is one constant about you, Akashi-san, it would be your desire for success. It would be unlike you to not use a piece that would secure your victory."

"Spare us the grief, Kuroko, and listen to Akashi." Midorima interjected; his intensity rivaling that of the redhead's.

"And what are _you_ going to do to stop me?" The Phantom challenged coldly.

" _Everything_ ," Aomine retorted, looking at her straight in the eye, the determination in his holding affirmation for his word.

"And you'll send in someone else less skilled to become the sacrificial lamb?" demanded Kuroko. "And what of their ends?"

"You're not a sacrificial lamb either, Teruna!" Kagami thundered before anyone else in the room could. All the hurt that he had felt had quickly morphed into anger, no longer able to accept the words she uttered. Her lack of self-preservation had constantly peeved him to no end, and now that she was volunteering herself to walk straight into danger, it spilled over the mental boundary he wished for her never to cross.

He strode straight up to her and smacked her head, his scarlet eyes seemingly heightened to a violent crimson. "When I saved you, I did not mean to allow you to tread around death's door once more. A person may be lucky once, but never twice." He hissed.

Her cerulean eyes widened at his outburst.

' _Then I should have been better off dead,'_ that single thought flashed through her mind.

Almost instantaneously, she smacked his hand away.

As fluid as her actions were, her mind was the direct opposite. Her thoughts grew panicked when he had let that last line slip; she didn't even need to look at the Generation of Miracles to know that they had caught on. It was the most obvious hint to figuring out the enigma she called herself, for they possessed all the pieces except for the six years of her absence.

She knew that she had messed up. Her mind schemed as well as Akashi's, but in her haste she had forgotten to add Kagami into the equation. Stubbornness bloomed within her heart – there was nothing they could learn if she refused to speak.

"Kagami, while I allowed you the opportunity to learn about what I was, you've really went too far." She murmured, low enough for only him to hear.

His blood froze when he heard the distinctive anger in her tone. Years spent with her had taught him that her quiet anger was far more dangerous than the one where she was vocal about her distaste in a blunt manner. When she was silent, she was more unpredictable than usual and would ensure that he paid the repercussions of his actions by several folds.

 _Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned_ – It was the most appropriate line he could think of from the many Literature books in her collection that had caught his interest.

"If you speak a _word_ about what had happened, I will not be afraid to—" She cut herself off intentionally, catching herself before she mimicked someone she swore never to be.

Unfortunately, Kagami didn't need her to finish her line to understand what she implied. Pure, unbidden fear coursed through his veins, his anger dissipating in an instant. He had no doubt that she would keep to her promise.

But as if lady luck was on his side today, the butler's timely arrival saved him from his rooted position.

"My lordships and ladies, dinner is ready to be served." He declared. "I must sincerely apologize for the delay."

Akashi nodded in acknowledgement, waving him away.

Before the door had fully closed behind the butler, Kuroko had already slipped through, leaving so swiftly and silently that the butler hardly noticed her. Yet her half-warning rang in Kagami's ears. It was something so soft, yet somehow too loud in its meaning.

The table of rulers couldn't help but be suspicious. _Save_?

* * *

The cold air bit into his skin the moment he exited through the glass door, making him shiver slightly.

He leaned against the railing to stare at the starry sky, his mind distant from current events. The beauty of the night sky did not go unnoticed despite his being preoccupied in his thoughts; silently appreciating the dozen of stars that were like scattered moon dust. Kagami lifted the glass of wine to his lips to sip, humming in cognizance as the rich, bitter taste of grape and wood infiltrated his taste buds. He scrunched his nose slightly as the aftertaste hit him, the slow burn going down his throat.

Dinner had been a quiet and somber affair.

No one knew how to begin a conversation without it leading to questions about the past or to the lady he served, causing inexorable silence to ensue. The dining room was filled only with the sounds of utensils clanking against each other or the ceramic plates, and the apprehension strung between them was almost maddening – even bordering on insanity. The lack of distractions had left them with too much space in their heads to _think_.

The tension in the room had been so thick that Kagami swore he could have cut it in half with his blunt knife. With no words spoken, everyone's frame of mind seemed to have turned into psychic vandals, splattering and throwing their unheard thoughts in the air. There was no dubiety that they were all trying to figure out how the pieces of the past fit together. Even the usually chirpy ruler of Kaijo had been uncharacteristically quiet, not even commenting on the food or making a joke.

There were too many questions that most of them wished to ask, and the lady in question had ignored everyone's gazes despite already having emotionlessly still eyes. She had eaten her meal in small bites without a care in the world, not even finishing the contents on her plate before she disappeared from sight.

One by one, following the earliest, they left the table after finishing their food, and the redhead had left before he was last.

Bitter like the wine he had consumed, his mind couldn't help but recollect the past hours of revelations.

Phantom of the Generation of Miracles, supposed ruler of Seirin - with a likeliness of being from the higher echelons and an undeniable connection to all the rulers - how much of her was left to expose? While he had only arrived in Teiko shortly after the rebellion, he was not deaf to the rumors that the many members of the previous ruling government had been assassinated by a sole figure whose identity they could not figure out.

It had also been the reason for her gimmick; she was the elusive person that had taken part in the rebellion and yet no one knew who – almost as if she were just a figment of their imaginations to scare children to sleep.

Yet now knowing that he had lived with the person centered in the rumors, he wondered. Where exactly did her past begin from and how horribly had it ended to force her into such dire seclusion?

"Kagami."

Speak of the devil. The raising motion of his hand halted in fright.

 _When did she—_ "Teru-Tetsuya," He muttered stiffly, suddenly wishing that the weak effects of his alcoholic beverage would set in. Perhaps then, in his state of drowsiness, he would get out with at least a small shred of his sanity.

"It's fine if you call me either." Kuroko sighed, brushing her teal hair back. "It was the name I had created for myself when I met you, and those years were undeniably part of my existence. I have no intention to shy away from it."

"Ah," was his coherent reply before they lapsed into uncomfortable silence.

"I apologize for what I said just now." She finally said.

Kagami waved it away hurriedly. "It was nothing. How we met wasn't glorifying, to say the least. How you reacted was perfectly natural."

"And like the past, your loose tongue has yet to be cured." She shot back easily.

The redhead scowled. "That hardly makes for a sincere apology."

She only shrugged at his comment, not denying the fact that she enjoyed poking fun at him at any chance she had. "I know you have questions. Ask away."

His expression spelt it all. Hesitation for whether if he was really allowed to do so and once more, glaringly obvious fear had enveloped his features, afraid that she might get angry if he crossed the line.

She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, nodding.

"W-Why couldn't you even be honest about your real name?"

"There was nothing about my past that I wanted to remember. My real name was a reminder of it so I hated it." She replied emotionlessly.

"What were you like in the past?"

He met resistance in the absence of sound.

He sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to get anything out of her on that topic.

"Why did you lie about who you were?"

Kuroko turned to meet his eyes earnestly. "Lie? I never have, especially to my savior. To hide or avoid things is one matter, but I would never lie."

"You address the people here differently compared to me." It was not a question, but rather an observation on his side.

"Same reason as the first," Kuroko murmured. "I met them under different circumstances, where titles dictated how we should address one another. I met you as a commoner with nothing left to lose. It helped to keep my two realities separated – even if it was by a minimalistic margin."

"Would you stop me if me I tried to find out your past?" He blurted out, internally blaming it on his liquid courage - although he knew full well that he was sober.

"No." She replied without a beat. "You deserve to know, but I will not be telling the story. If you want to sate your curiosity, ask one of the Generation of Miracles. I'll forewarn you that none of them suffer for fools. Like how you earned the right to follow, you have to earn the right to know."

"And how is that simple?" Kagami refuted in annoyance.

The cerulean blue-eyed lady looked unsurprised. "It's not."

' _Why did I even bother asking that_?' He groaned, feeling the sudden urge to down a few more glasses.

A small smile tugged her lips, as if to challenge the redhead. "It depends on how much you're willing to give to find out."

"Even if it meant placing the experiences I shared with you at stake?" He asked steadily, eyes blazing with a fire that clashed with her provocation. His posture was rigid, half-expecting her to pounce on him for even suggesting it.

The Phantom paused steps away from the glass door, thinking for a second, "Even if it meant that. I trust that you know what not to say."

The moment the door to the balcony clicked shut and she disappeared, Kagami huffed, collapsing on the cold tiled floor in a sitting position.

' _How much I'm willing to give, huh.'_ He repeated in his head.

He wished he knew how much, frankly. Did he dare? Could he face the remote possibility of never seeing the bedazzling teal haired lady the way he had before? He tilted his head to the side in hope for a distraction from the thoughts he would rather not think about, only to be surprised when he saw the faint outline of a training courtyard.

' _Well, I'll have to tire myself out until I can think of nothing else then.'_

Decision made, he picked himself off the ground, contemplating if he should jump down from the second floor to make his life easier. As far as he knew, the 'villa' was like some kind of maze with its twists and turns, not knowing where each corridor would lead. He wasn't sure he could brave it and end up where he wanted.

He terminated his inner musings, reminding himself that he was an unwanted guest. He would have to follow the social rules properly if he didn't want them to have any material to use against him.

Keeping a mental direction of where his destination was, he quickly descended the nearest flight of stairs that conveniently led to the main entrance door. He tried to maintain a leisurely pace as he crossed the foyer, only to break into a sprint the moment his foot stepped out of the villa, dashing towards the courtyard.

He followed up his previous actions by grabbing a wooden sword from the small shack that kept the training paraphernalia, not staying long enough to inhale mouthfuls of the musty air.

All the tension from the evening seemed to seep out of him as he carefully clutched the sword, focusing intently on his grip and stance. He felt a large grin envelop his features as he delved into the activity he loved, the movements of his usual sword practice coming to mind.

Like lightning, he swung his sword downwards, producing a sharp whistle as he cut through air. Transcending from one motion to another with equal speed, with every fraction considered and no extra energy expended, he imagined himself parrying and striking at an invisible enemy.

Continuing the routine of actions, the world truly faded away. All he could feel was the power of the strike with every deliberate muscle flex that contributed to the swing, as well as the stability and his centre of gravity needed for a parry. Eventually his eyes closed while his lethal dance continued, sweat soaking the crisp white shirt that he was forced to change into before the meal.

However, the moment his sword met a solid resistance instead of the thinning air, his scarlet eyes sprang open, his entire attention focused on his new enemy.

Wordlessly, he turned a quick round before his sword came down once more, fully intent on breaking the arm of his opponent.

Before he could completely execute his plan, his wooden sword clashed with another again, making him slightly shocked as he was well-aware of his speed.

"What's with the killing intent, Bakagami?"

He loosened his stance when he realized who it was, his split eyebrows furrowing when he heard the man's choice of insult.

"Bakagami?" He echoed in confusion and offence before adding his own question. "What are you doing here?"

Aomine pointed upwards to the lit room on the third floor. "Satsuki was nagging at me to properly review the expenditure of Tōō in the dead of the night. I saw someone practicing and it seemed more interesting than her incessant talking so I escaped from the balcony to find out who it was. Much to my disappointment, it was you."

"Would you like me to holler for Momoi?" Kagami sneered in retaliation to his insult.

The dark-haired ruler glared at him. "I was thinking you would be better company, but I'm clearly mistaken."

"What did you say, Ahomine?"

" _Aho_ mine?" The said person cried out incredulously.

"Do you really have a hearing problem?"

"Do _you_ have only muscles for brains?"

"Shouldn't you be directing that question to yourself?"

A vein throbbed in Aomine's temple as his temper snapped. How long had it been since someone dared to stand against him or even come close to insulting him? Not repaying the favor of their defiance would certainly be rude. With that track of mind, his wooden sword swung towards the redhead, the weapon filled with the intent to hurt.

However, Kagami wasn't one to go down without a fight. He blocked the attack with more strength than Aomine had expected, the unequal might causing him to slide back slightly. He quirked an eyebrow in excitement, intrigued. He wondered if his current opponent would be a worthy competitor. Their previous fight had been cut off after all – and nothing left greater dissatisfaction in Aomine Daiki than a fight with no conclusion.

To gain answers to his burning questions, he executed a myriad of complex blows consisting of feints and quick swings, relentless in its onslaught. He was pleasantly surprised when Kagami met them with the same level of vigor, causing a wider smile to form on his lips.

The attendant only gritted in his teeth in irritation, feeling like his opponent was still growing in power and was not at full strength.

Harshly, he broke off the contact of trembling swords that met under pressure, his entire frame taut with anger. "Fight me at full strength, you _coward_. You call those half-assed attempts a fight?"

A full-blown smirk appeared on Aomine's face as his senses sharpened. Though the man before him was lacking greatly in intelligence, his perception in swordplay wasn't far from his. _Perhaps, just perhaps_ , his mind whispered longingly, _he would be able to entertain me for awhile_.

"First to have the neck at sword point?" He challenged.

"Deal," Kagami answered, already feeling the thrill of a challenge. "Shall we add a penalty for the defeated?"

"Name it."

"You'll tell me how Kuroko was like in the past."

' _Of course…'_ Aomine mused, wondering why he hadn't figured out his motive in advance. "And what have you got to offer?"

He hesitated. "I will offer – ' _Even if it meant placing the experiences I shared with you on stake?' –_ what I know of Kuroko in the years I spent with her."

Aomine's dark blue eyes brightened at the tempting prospect. He had no complaints for the prize; it was definitely a fair trade.

"Deal," The ruler of Tōō replied. "I will forewarn you though; the only person that can beat me is me."

"Don't get too arrogant, your head might blow up." His sparring partner retorted.

' "— _I trust that you know what not to say". Huh. I just have to win._ ' Kagami thought, readying his stance.

When the internal countdown of three seconds passed, both of them went for the kill.

They exchanged blows so quickly that their movements seemed like a blur, eagerly trying to seize weaknesses or blind spots of the other. Neither of them lacked the monstrous power nor insane stamina to keep up with one another, leaving the deciding factor to experience and speed. Although it was barely noticeable, Aomine clearly had the upper hand.

With every clash, he reacted slightly faster than Kagami did, and his manoeuvres supported his battle-hardened self that adapted more quickly to new opponents. His assaults allowed him to land more blows than Kagami and with each passing minute, he couldn't help but become more exulted. The reason was simple – as he grew, so did the redhead.

For the first time in a long while, he felt nervous with excitement. The scales of victory could tip either way. Without a doubt, his judgment of Kagami Taiga was quite right – explosive power, stamina and considerable speed. While his analysis wasn't proportional to the terror-inducing ones of Satsuki Momoi, she still had a considerable amount of influence on him after so many years.

Yet – the dark-haired prodigy had overlooked a crucial detail in his analysis; a good amount of Kagami's experience in sparring was derived from his time spent with the Phantom of the Generation of Miracles, an elusive and cunning opponent that he had the fortune of going against before.

The result of the match happened so fast that it caught him off guard.

The first moment, the redhead had been clashing furiously with him, trying to win a battle of power. In the next, he felt all resistance disappear as his focal point simultaneously side stepped, slamming the handle of his sword into his gut.

Aomine felt the air get knocked out of him, causing him to gasp slightly.

Even with his fast recovery, Kagami had learnt never to let the momentary stun slide away. Changing his centre of gravity as he stepped back, he swung his sword upwards with tremendous speed, stopping the wooden sword several millimeters shy of his opponent's throat.

A triumphant smile appeared, matching the exhilaration in his scarlet eyes. "Yield."

The ruler couldn't even mask his shock. He just stood there, wide eyed and dumfounded, his mind replaying those last moments with crystal clarity. He was truly unreconciled. How had he, a proclaimed Miracle, _lose_?

Hell, the concept of losing had long become foreign to him, and the feeling of nauseous defeat welled in his being once more. The dark-haired practitioner had thought he had missed that feeling of defeat but perhaps, what it had truly stemmed from was his yearning for a stronger foe. And his request had unexpectedly been delivered by a person that would have been classified as a novice when compared him.

"We'll have a rematch tomorrow," he finally said, hoping that his bitterness wouldn't show through his words. "I won't let you quit while you're ahead."

Kagami smirked. "I wouldn't have any other way, Ahomine."

"Shut up, Bakagami."

The attendant, seeing that his opponent would make no move to attack him again, lowered his sword before he spoke once more. "I would like my reward."

Aomine sighed, running his hand through his sweat-soaked hair. "Right off the bat, huh? Fuck, I'll need some booze if I'm going to recollect it all. Let's bring the story telling inside, Bakagami. I don't intend to end the night with a serious case of hypothermia."

"What was Kuroko to you?" The redhead asked, in the midst of the stifling silence that surrounded them as they walked back to the villa.

Aomine peered into the foyer from the slightly ajar front door. From the darkness looming in the room and the nearest sources of light emitting only from the gaps beneath some of the doors, he presumed that most of them were going to retire for the night.

"She was skilled in her own way but she could never hold a candle to any of us in direct confrontation. She was… Smart, calculative and the peacemaker among us." He answered subconsciously, signalling for Kagami to follow him to the kitchen.

"We were undefeated in pair duels." He chuckled before his expression turned mournful. "She… She was my best friend, my shadow." He said with finality. Bitterness was evident in his tone as he recalled their status in a past tense.

"She's just not the same as she was anymore." Finished Kagami, gesturing to the portrait hanging on the foyer wall.

Aomine smiled ruefully. "That's right."

Silence lapsed once more as they descended the stairs into the wine cellar that was hidden in the corner of the kitchen. The dark-haired ruler peered at the labels showing the age of the alcohol before he pulled out one that satisfied him.

He uncorked the bottle and sank to the cold concrete ground of the cellar.

With the muted light, the attendant could barely make out his companion's silhouette but sat down next to him nonetheless. He ignored the feeling of the wine bottles poking his back and tried to settle himself as comfortably as he could.

"Where shall I begin?" Aomine wondered out loud.

"From the beginning?"

"That sounds about right…. Right from the start of our Teiko Academy days…"

…

* * *

 _Thank you, you crazies, for all the favorites/follows and reviews :D  
I really appreciate it, especially since the next few chapters (three if I'm lucky) will be Hell to deal with.  
Big shout out to Sapphyre Lily for beta-reading. She's amazing - so check her out._

As per usual, criticism/thoughts are welcomed.  
I'll see you next chapter... in a week probably.


	6. I : BEGINNING

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basuke!**

* * *

 ** _What's past is prologue.  
\- William Shakespeare._**

* * *

 _Teiko Academy_

 _The most prestigious boarding school in Teiko, famed for its first-class facilities.  
Admission granted only to people aged 13-19, with 75% of its entrees being male.  
Conditions to enter: Extraordinarily talented or of noble blood._

* * *

Year XX82

It was like any other day in Teiko Academy.

The entire compound was blasting with activity the moment the hourly bell sounded, incessant chatter rising along with the shrill decibel. Chairs dragged along the tiled floors and many students heaved a sigh of relief that yet another hour had passed, drawing the end of the day closer. Like all days, it had been torturously slow and jammed-packed with knowledge, leaving the students in constant complaint about the inhumanity of education.

The season had quickly transitioned to blistering summer, and their uniforms along with the changing colours of nature. Gone were the long-sleeved blazers to combat the coldness of the disappearing winter winds of spring, and were instead replaced by thinner fabrics to ensure that the students didn't swim in a sauna of their own sweat.

Due to the better weather, the courtyard was no exception to the increased activity levels. Wooden swords clashed as a few pairs duelled, and at another end of the open space, there were people practicing their swings. Furious shouts from students and teachers alike encompassed much of the sound produced; whether to incite fear, mockery or for the sake of instruction.

Yet, the thing – or people to be specific – that garnered the most attention was the tanned boy battling against another who had a stunning shade of cerulean blue for hair.

Many looked at the weaker, ghost-like person with incriminating pity, and at the well-toned muscular boy in awe. Perhaps more were surprised that the unknown figure had lasted as long as he had against the prodigious Aomine Daiki, who had an extraordinary talent for swordplay that had met the requirements of the exigent scholarship of Teiko Academy.

But despite their awe, they paid no heed to exactly how he managed to fare. Their eyes were solely riveted on Aomine, to the extent that they were devouring the very sight of him - especially so for his loyal fanatics. It was almost as if the world faded away as his polished movements stole their attention, making them wonder how was it possible for a person who had only went through fifteen summers to be so accomplished while they were still so sorely lacking. Begrudgingly, any foe of the prodigy had to admit that he was truly far more superior.

However, that was not the case for the redhead who was sitting at the sidelines. His object of scrutiny deferred from the rest, as his sunset coloured eyes were affixed to the teal-haired person.

The word 'interesting' was the first thing that sparked in Akashi Seijuuro's mind when he tried to read the person he had defined a curiosity.

Extremely weak and insignificant – for the lack of better words – that was his first and final analysis when he observed the person.

Nothing in particular exuded from his weak presence, but from how well he was holding up against Aomine, that was certainly not the case. What was apparent in appearance was deceiving – the person's movements may have been lacking in strength but he was clearly no stranger to swordplay as seen by the amount of ease he had as he counteracted his opponent's sword. There was no grimace on his face as he fought a stronger foe, his stoic expression not even showing his determination or confidence to win the fight. He was undoubtedly a veteran that appeared as a blank piece of paper, a skill that he could manipulate to his advantage.

Akashi berated his mind for allowing someone so fascinating be forgotten, wondering why he hadn't noticed the blue-eyed person earlier. It was often said the mind removed any insignificant information to prevent an overload. While it was a logical explanation, it still made the redhead incomparably annoyed at himself. There was no way that he was simple; he was like a plain-looking book with a lock on it, the perfect canvas for mysteries.

While he had been stuck in the mulling of his thoughts, the fight that was doomed to be a miserable one from the start had ended. The cerulean blue-haired person raised his hands in surrender when his sword was knocked out of his hands. Aomine merely grinned, and demanded another fight soon. His defeated opponent looked slightly shocked before he nodded and quickly looked away, making himself scarce as he headed towards the main school building.

When Aomine approached him, Akashi asked one simple question. "Aomine, did you ask for his name if you wanted another fight?"

The light blush that immediately appeared on the tanned boy's face told him the answer.

Akashi sighed at his friend's muddle-headedness, knowing that this entire ordeal was going to become more complicated. What should have ordinarily have been an easy task in ascertaining that person's identity had become immensely difficult, seeing how his low presence made him hard to spot.

'Well, those are the troubles of later.' Akashi thought, before proceeding with his next question.

"Aomine, why did it take you a minute longer than average to defeat him?"

The dark-haired practitioner looked at Akashi in surprise. "Did it really take that long?"

"My calculations are always correct. There is no way I could be wrong."

Aomine ran his fingers through his hair as he shrugged, a gleam of excitement appearing in his eyes. He didn't have to say it but it was clear to anyone that he was impressed. After all, lasting an extra minute against THE Aomine Daiki was a rare feat. "I wish I could tell you, but that invisible guy is kind of peculiar. He is horrible at offense, but his parrying skills are undoubtedly one of the best I've ever come across. He is quite perceptive too; he dodged most of the strikes that majority would fail to. What he lacks in strength he makes up for in speed and flexibility."

The red-eyed boy nodded in acquiescence. "His form was quite different too. While he fought you, he made sure he was never in a bad position. But occasionally when one of his hands were free, it always seemed to twitch and reach out for something that wasn't there. I suspect he wields with one hand because he doesn't intend to meet pressure for a long period of time or increase the distance between the two of you, but I am absolutely sure that he can either dual wield or is battle-trained in martial arts."

"But who is that guy though? I've never seen him before." Aomine wondered out loud.

"Of course you haven't." Akashi said in a matter-of-factly tone. "You only have an eye for women with large bosoms. A petite person with low presence and a male no less would never catch your attention."

"Tch," Aomine remarked under his breath, his cheeks turning becoming redder as his preferences were fully exposed. Nothing ever seemed to escape the Emperor's eyes.

Akashi's red eyes roved across the courtyard before they met with navy blue ones once more. "And Aomine, you seem to have forgotten that this is Momoi's class. She would have been hounded by male company had she not been ill today. Finding him won't be that difficult after all."

The dark-haired boy snapped his fingers in realization. "So that is why I could duel someone new without having to be a guard dog in combined class. It all makes sense now."

"I suppose it would to you." Akashi said dryly as he stood up. "We need to ask Momoi for a favour."

* * *

It wasn't every day the Emperor asked for a favour. But when he did, it was absolute. There was no room for negotiations or refusals – his favours were always reasonable and he never asked for them unless they were absolutely necessary.

In a sense, the usually tyrannical Akashi Seijuuro asking and not demanding was the way he chose to show that he respected his companions. It was a courtesy he extended to them; he would ask and not force, although the latter would be easy to accomplish. It was a small gesture that many did not have the fortitude of experiencing; so why should those with it let it go to waste?

But precisely because of its rarity, it always caught Satsuki Momoi by surprise.

"Look for a boy with teal blue hair in your class."

' _Where did that come from?_ '

"Alright," Satsuki blinked. "And there's a boy with blue hair in my class that majors in Arts?"

Akashi looked exasperated and amused for a fleeting moment. "Yes, there is such a person in your class, Momoi. You'll understand why you never noticed him when you see him."

"Oh?" She muttered to herself, a shadow of doubt clouding over her features. She attempted to search her memories for the mentioned person but all she could come up with was a blank. Did that person truly exist?

"So can I trust you with this task?" Akashi raised an eyebrow, to which Satsuki nodded almost immediately.

"Of course!" She said a tad too loudly, cringing slightly at her own awkwardness.

"I'll be counting on you, Momoi."

' _You're hopeless_ ,' she scolded herself as she tottered back to her class in confusion after she watched Akashi leave. There was someone in her class she never noticed for close to two years, even though she was famed for her observation skills? What blasphemy was this? It was an unthinkable concept to her.

There was absolutely no way…. Right? She tried to convince herself. ' _But Akashi-kun would never lie._ '

And as if the world was out to prove her wrong and increase the oddities of the day, she slammed right into the person she was supposed to find when she was entering the class.

The aforementioned teal blue hair stood out the most at first glance, its short length hanging down his face and covering his dazzling cerulean eyes slightly. Much emphasis was placed on how skinny and frail he was, as his uniform hung loosely on his frame, albeit comfortably. Lacking utterly in stature and presence, it was truly no surprise – ignoring the irony of the situation – that she had not seen him.

She stumbled back a few steps in shock, gaping as she truly took in in the person she had collided with.

Then like a banshee, she screamed.

It was so loud and blood-curdling that even the typically impassive Kuroko flinched, so stunned by the ear-shattering sound that his manners fled him momentarily and he didn't even remember to apologize.

That was unfortunately not the end to the series of unfortunate events.

As if to put the finishing touches to her terrifying performance, she fainted.

Not gracefully like a ballerina finishing her last motion, but rather an unceremonious collapse to the ground, her eyes rolling back to show the whites. Her pink hair was splayed all around her on the white tile floors and on her face, and her limbs were oddly angled as if she had been possessed.

It left the pitiful ghost-like person rooted to the ground, wondering if he should walk away before he was associated with murdering the lower level Academy's sweetheart. Her usually flushed face was suddenly so gaunt and pale, the slight side effects from being sick the previous day, making the analogy of a corpse not far-fetched.

He could only sigh as his morals interfered, forcing him to pick up the fallen girl. The pink-haired girl, although slim and athletic, certainly wasn't the lightest feather of the pack. He grunted occasionally as he carried her to the infirmary, ignoring the accusing and vacant stares of the many who had witnessed the entire scene.

He was well-aware of his natural talent to scare the living daylights out of people, but never had he incited such fear or made someone scream and faint for the wrong reasons. His invisibility wasn't something he could change on a whim and as useful as it was, sometimes it was equally annoying. For the nth time in his life, he questioned what he had done to deserve such a fate.

Was his wish to be more obvious that difficult to grant?

Just as he settled the unconscious pink-haired girl onto the infirmary bed, the door burst open, the force used so ferocious that it rattled the doors on their hinges. A dark-haired avenger stormed over, his navy-blue eyes burning as he grabbed the blue-eyed person by the collar and lifted him off the ground.

"What did you do to Satsuki, you bastard!?" He spat out, venom lacing his voice.

"Please put me down, Aomine-san." The other spoke calmly, making no attempt to struggle. "I'd appreciate if you don't make me the subject of your false accusations that I had used force on Momoi-san."

Although his eyes were covered by his fringe, there was unmistakable anger in them for being cited for something he did not do, despite his voice being a sharp contrast to his feelings. He stayed unperturbed at the threat the dark-haired boy posed to him and continued to stare into his eyes unfazed.

"Aomine, put him down." A quiet voice commanded.

The victim suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. The fourth party sure had arrived quickly.

"Aomine." The voice warned once more.

Aomine sent the blue-eyed person a scorching glare, shoving him roughly to the ground. "Why are you letting go of the bastard that hurt Satsuki?" He half-yelled.

"Daiki," Akashi said sharply, silencing him. "If he was guilty, why would he have carried Momoi to the infirmary like she was fragile glass?"

Aomine opened his mouth to argue but nothing his mind produced seemed to form a sound argument against the redhead. He shut his mouth, glaring at the table like it had done him wrong. And while the entire episode was going on, the blue-haired person picked himself up from the ground, brushing imaginary dust off his uniform.

"What's your name?"

The questioned person quirked an eyebrow, surprised that the dominant Akashi Seijuuro, heir to a country-renowned trading company, who had everything compared to him, was asking him, who was lacking in status.

"Kuroko Tetsuya." He replied.

The redhead gave a small smile, glad that he could finally put a name on the mysterious figure that could pull off as an apparition.

"Why didn't you tell Aomine—" He gestured at the volatile member of the male species in front of him— "What actually happened?"

"He would have destroyed me, with or without explanation. There was no point in wasting my breath convincing him."

The tall purple-haired boy who stood behind Akashi stopped eating for a moment to let out a chuckle. The greenhead looked stunned at his blatant answer but was amused nonetheless.

The aforementioned boy looked mortified, a red tint immediately appearing on his high cheekbones. It was embarrassing for him on how fast Kuroko picked up that all reason was lost when he was angered. The worst part was probably that Kuroko would have let him beat him up just because he had no fighting chance and that he knew resistance was futile.

And really, what was he to Kuroko, a barbaric brute?

Meanwhile, Akashi became more intrigued by him. In just two short meetings he had surprised him more than some people had in collective years. How much more was there to unearth about Kuroko Tetsuya? Would he be just another shogi piece that he could use at his disposal or would he prove to be something more?

"Do you mind if I call you Kuroko?"

Kuroko shook his head. "Not at all, Akashi-san."

"Well then, Kuroko, I should apologize for Aomine's brash behaviour of mishandling and false accusations."

"It's fine." He dismissed. "I am partially the reason why she fainted. She was the first to react so violently though."

"What did you do, nanodayo?"

"I scared her by accident." He admitted.

Aomine let out a loose bark of laughter. He could imagine how it had happened with perfect clarity since something similar had happened to him. Before they had sparred, he didn't notice that Kuroko was in front of him for a full half a minute.

"Couldn't you make yourself more noticeable?" Aomine remarked.

"I did try but it was met with little success."

Murasakibara looked at the blue-eyed person in sympathy when he said that. He was his direct opposite – he couldn't help but stand out – literally. His height had always made him a giraffe in the midst of gazelles, not forgetting his weird color for hair. But if it was that analogy that they were following, Kuroko would definitely be the weak fawn that was abandoned due to forgetfulness.

"I'm quite interested in you, Kuroko." Akashi mused. "But platonically, of course. I do not wish to take up more of your time from classes. Shall we shift the conversation to later?"

"Sure," He replied without hesitation. His posture however, showed that he was sceptical about whether they would even remember the meeting in the end.

"Will the courtyard after school suffice? Or would you prefer somewhere else?"

"It will suffice. I'll see you later then, Akashi-san, Aomine-san, Murasakibara-san and Midorima-san."

Just as quickly as he spoke, he disappeared from the infirmary.

Midorima pushed his glasses up his nose bridge. "Oha Asa predicted that interesting things will happen to Cancers today. And she is right as per usual, since I always follow fate, nanodayo. But just in case of unseen circumstances, I brought my lucky item today, which is a frog."

To prove his point, he brought out the terrarium that was in his bag, showing them the frog that was habituated in it temporarily.

' _I never got the last part…._ ' Aomine sighed.

"Mido-chin, will you cook the frog once the day is over?"

"Murasakibara, that frog was captured from the Academy Pond."

* * *

Akashi Seijuuro had always prided himself for being punctual – always early or on the dot, nothing less or more. On the occasion that he was early, there was usually no one, seeing how most of his companions weren't fans of being extra early.

Yet, the teal-haired boy was already sitting underneath the shade of the trees with not a care in the world, deeply engrossed in the tales the inked paper had to offer. He had found himself almost reluctant to interrupt Kuroko's solitude, after seeing how he seemed so relaxed and with a soft, feminine smile that he had never seen before.

"Kuroko."

The blue-eyed person looked up, his face changing back to its usual stony state. "Akashi-san."

"What are you reading?" He asked, trying to make conversation before the others arrived.

Kuroko tilted his book up, showing him the spine.

"A memoir from the previous war?" He said incredulously. He hadn't expected his tastes to be so ghastly and distinct.

Kuroko nodded, noting the page number before he snapped the book shut. "It's amazing to read about people who were so close to death and yet chose life."

"What about it amazes you?"

"The potential and perseverance of humanity," he answered honestly.

Before the redhead could reply, a chorus of footsteps echoed across the empty courtyard, cutting their conversation short. They both turned instinctively to the source of the sound, effectively halting their speech of thought.

"Midorima, would you care to bring two sets of weaponry? A sword, dagger, bow and a quiver of arrows would be enough as a set," requested Akashi.

The greenhead nodded in affirmation and moved towards the room where the equipment was kept while the other two moved towards them.

"Why were we called out here for?" Aomine grumbled, loosening his tie further.

"I don't know, Mine-chin. Aka-chin promised me snacks if I came…"

The redhead waved their questions away. "You'll know in a bit."

Even the usually disinterested Kuroko was curious to know why the Emperor Akashi Seijuuro, who topped almost every subject, was interested in him.

When Midorima returned, he placed all the equipment on the ground in a neat and orderly fashion. Akashi picked up two swords and tested their sturdiness and weight before he threw one at Aomine and Kuroko respectively.

"Fight again at full strength." He ordered. "You are allowed to use another weapon if that is your style."

A full blown grin appeared on Aomine's face at the prospect of a good fight. Part of the blade clamped in his mouth, he rolled up his sleeves as he moved further into the courtyard. Kuroko removed his cardigan with pursed lips, rolling up his sleeves in a similar fashion while his sword was sheathed in his belt. He followed suit and moved in, except not with decisive purpose like Aomine.

Akashi frowned slightly, wondering why the blue-eyed practitioner didn't pick up a second weapon like he had expected him to. Nonetheless, he masked his confusion and followed after the pair since he had to referee the fight.

"I expect this to be a fair fight," he said strictly, looking at both of them. "Begin."

Aomine, always the initiator of fights, struck with full force. And equal to Akashi's expectations, Kuroko parried the lethal strike perfectly, without having to move a single step. However, out of an inner compulsion Kuroko quickly shifted his feet back, ensuring that he was more stable for what might come next.

Like he had anticipated, Aomine's unforgiving assault began. His sword movements blurred due to his astonishing arm strength that contributed to his speed. All sorts of movements were applied; be it feints, straight or curved swings. Even Akashi and Murasakibara who were second to him in skill were often hard pressed to defend against him.

From how the wood would collide painfully with fabric and skin, Kuroko was no exception. There was no doubt that he would wake up bruised and battered tomorrow. A thin layer of moisture covered the teal-haired person's face, and while he showed nothing on the outside, it was clear from his jerky movements and winces that he was very much in pain.

"Shouldn't we stop them, Akashi? I'm not trying to underestimate, but this is a pitiful scene, nanodayo." Midorima urged, unable to stand the disproportionate advantage between both of them.

"Just wait," Akashi murmured, not taking his eyes off the fight.

There it was again. With the small opening that Aomine unknowingly revealed, Kuroko's free hand twitched before he clenched it, as if to suppress some kind of reflex.

The prodigy, now having given his undivided attention as compared to the previous fight, had naturally noticed the odd movement too.

He gritted his teeth in annoyance and added another violent burst of strength, sending the wooden sword out of Kuroko's hands.

"I lost." The teal-haired person said, allowing his arms to hang limply at the sides.

"You weren't fighting at full strength, Kuroko." Aomine spat. His hands trembled in anger at his blatant cover-ups. More than anything else, he loathed people that didn't give everything they had - it made it feel like a hollow victory.

Kuroko frowned. "It was."

"No it was not." Aomine retorted back hotly. "You never went offensive."

"Because I never have."

"Kuroko, if I recall, the current Kuroko Head is rather skilled at swordplay. People who have witnessed it complimented it." Akashi called out. Like his friend, he hated the pretend disparity between the two.

"My father is skilled." Kuroko affirmed in a deadpan manner.

The redhead raised an eyebrow as if in challenge. "And how can we be sure that the same line can't be extended to you?"

Following Akashi's train of thought, Aomine picked up the fallen sword and threw it back at its previous wielder, his actions enforced by anger. "Again."

"We can do this until dawn." Akashi warned. "I insist that you show what you are capable of if you want to get back to your book."

Still undeterred by their provocations, his expression remained remarkably placid. Kuroko readied his stance again, knowing that there was no point in trying to convince them.

"Fine," He murmured, nodding subtly for Akashi to begin.

When the hand signal was displayed once more, the immediate results stumped everyone.

Like the previous fight, Aomine had charged with much fervour.

But this time, his charge met empty air as Kuroko swiftly dodged diagonally down, seconds faster than the sword's projection and towards Aomine.

Kuroko Tetsuya did not wield a second sword or dagger.

But had he wielded one, Aomine would probably have been dead.

Hand straightened and going directly for the heart in a momentary disadvantage of exposure that most right-handed wielders had, the cerulean-haired practitioner jabbed at the spot in between his opponent's ribs with much might and main. Pain reverberated through Aomine's body, forcing him to stagger back from the impact while the sword that was held in a reverse grip like it was a dagger went straight for the main artery in his throat. While shaky, it did the trick.

In the midst of the quick transition, Aomine's sword had already been moved further right due to its collision with the sword, making it a complete victory for Kuroko.

Even Midorima, who valued social etiquette as much as Akashi, was left so flabbergasted that his expression looked uncharacteristically unpolished as he gaped unabashedly. Murasakibara looked equally astounded, but he looked tickled, like he had found a new toy to play to with.

Akashi Seijuuro had never felt more elated to have found a diamond in the rough. He was glad that he hadn't wasted his time and that all his small efforts had not been for naught. Kuroko Tetsuya would and could continue to amaze him and that was what truly made him so appealing.

The phlegmatic Kuroko moved away from his last position with neither a trace of happiness nor haughtiness apparent on his face, flipping the sword in his grip once more to how it was actually supposed to be held and swung it down once.

Recovering from his shock, Aomine winced when he touched the injured spot. For someone who looked so weak, the deceiving blue-eyed person could really hit. Yet, despite the slight haze of pain in his mind from an organ being exposed to extreme pressure, the dark-haired prodigy felt exhilarated.

Yes, Kuroko Tetsuya would be a worthy opponent and ally.

"Good fight, Aomine-san."

"Drop the honorific would you, Tetsu? I am not a feudal lord." Aomine snorted, slapping him in the back, making the teal-haired practitioner wince. "And how did you do that?" He demanded.

"You should have been on your guard for everything but my sword, Aomine-kun. If you knew your opponent was hiding something, then what you should fear is not the visible weapon." Kuroko avoided the topic politely, changing the suffix at the end to something more informal.

Hearing nothing about his technique, the dark-haired boy grinned even more widely. "We have to fight again sometime soon. I'm not letting you quit while you're ahead."

"If that is what you wish, Aomine-kun. And you have more victories than I do."

"Midorima, do you understand why now?" Akashi mused, watching the banter of the two blunettes.

"Even if I didn't, Akashi—" he pushed his glasses up in contemplation – "you would still do what you wanted."

"Aka-chin is going to invite him into our team, isn't he?" Murasakibara asked in a pallid tone.

"Of course," Akashi responded in a matter-of-factly way. "It would be unlike me to let such talent go to waste."

Subsequently, he spoke louder, projecting his voice to reach the verbally sparring pair.

"Kuroko, I would like for you to join our team in the War Games in Inter-Academy and Winter Cup."

...

* * *

 _Sincerely sorry for the late update .  
And a double apology because Chapter 7 will be late too (It's an information dump and equal Hell to write)  
_

 _But most of all, thank you all the reviews, follows and favorites!  
On the brighter side of things, this chapter and the next will be one of the longest I've ever written.  
While it doesn't seem like a good compensation... it's the best I can offer?  
_

To the guest: No, I don't know if there will be romance. I don't know if it'll be AkaKuro, even if I do love the pairing.  
Romance isn't exactly a thing I plan to write about, given the nature of the plot I've thought of.  
Love or infatuations just seem out of place. Sorry to disappointment in advance.


	7. I : MIDST

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basuke! Can I stop saying this one day?**

* * *

 _ **"And I try to remember if this happened before, because this is a memory I would want to keep.  
But there is no echo of it in my mind." **_  
_**― Beth Revis, The Body Electric**_

* * *

Kuroko's face seemed to become blanker, if that was even possible in the first place.

"Are you okay, Akashi-san?" He finally spoke, his eyes filled with concern.

The referenced person raised his eyebrow. "On the contrary Kuroko, I'm perfectly sane and serious."

"I beg to defer, Akashi-san. I am sure that you know of my limitations," replied Kuroko offhandedly. "Although I have a reasonable amount of speed, it is currently physically impossible for me to keep up for forty minutes. The style and technique I use is classified under 'ferocious'. If you know of the rumor, then you should be no stranger to the fact that the Kurokos are famed for their brutality in skill when aiming straight for the vitals."

"Stamina can be trained with the right regime and diet, and so can the restraint of strength," objected Akashi.

"My effectiveness lies in being underestimated." He countered. "If I am in your team, they will presume that I am of the same caliber. Even with my weak presence, if they know that I exist, it will be for nought."

The redhead interrupted his train of thought. "You mistake my words, Kuroko. I do not wish for you to be the main fighting force. I have another role that perhaps only you can fulfill."

Everyone present except the speaker raised their eyebrows quizzically.

"Reconnaissance," he answered.

"Reconnaissance?" echoed Kuroko.

"What do we lack the most in the game itself?" Akashi asked rhetorically. "That is, of course, information about the enemy's movements. Coordination without information can only thrive to a certain extent and much more is required of individual skill. Furthermore, voice signals are out of the question because it would relay our current positions to the enemy."

"But what if there was someone with low presence to sneak around—" he brought up a finger to start numbering— "skilled in burst power to protect their person, astute and flexible? He would naturally be the perfect person for reconnaissance."

Finishing that sentence, he gazed earnestly at Kuroko. "And some traits that are difficult to achieve because they are unfavorable in most situations in life are found in you, Kuroko. You will be underestimated, but you will hold a greater role than they would expect. It would also increase your experience in swordplay, something that would appeal to you."

' _Is there even a point to go against his decisions?'_ The teal-haired person let out an inaudible sigh. "I will participate, if that is what you wish, Akashi-san. But I do not know anything about the War Games except the brief details."

"We can help you with that," Akashi reassured.

"Poor unfortunate soul…" Aomine muttered under his breath.

The redhead continued with his instructions while ignoring his companion's comments but the dark-haired boy swore he felt evil intent directed his way. "We'll meet back here in half an hour and wearing your exercising uniform is advised. "

"Duly noted," they said in unison.

"Aomine, your training menu is doubled today. Fetch Nijimura-senpai and Haizaki will you?"

The mentioned person suppressed a groan. He had thought right.

* * *

 **WAR GAMES**

 **Conditions to the match:**

 **Win Three Rounds out of Five**

 **Conditions to win a Round:**

 **Capture the Flag in 10 minutes***

 **Complete Elimination of Opponents 10 minutes***

 ***Accomplishing one does not amount to completing both, unless they are done simultaneously.**

 **Number of Participants allowed per round: 6**

 **Number of Reserves allowed per team: 2**

 **Fake weapon(s) allowed: Sword, Dagger, Shortbow, Longbow, Arrows**

 **Rule(s):**

 **\- Each team is only allowed three carrier pigeons. They are not allowed to be shot down.**

 **\- Only one person is allowed to enter the match grounds ten minutes beforehand.**

 **\- Excessive force is not allowed.***

 **\- Any other object that is brought in is has to be authorized by the Judging Committee first.**

 **\- No usage of real/sharp weapons.**

 **\- A player is allowed to speak against the referee in unfair/biased circumstances.**

 **\- Once eliminated, fighting or helping of teammates is not allowed.***

 **\- No removal/moving of official equipment is allowed.***

 ***If any of the starred rules are violated, the point will immediately go to the opposing team.**

* * *

"The War Games are typically hosted on a randomized Academy ground with an equal chance that it might be held in our Academy. Finals are usually held in the forest. The winner of each match is the first to three bouts out of five, each round lasting for ten minutes. You have to eliminate all your opponents or capture their flag to win a bout. I will first explain the elimination point scoring system of the War Games." Akashi said, pointing towards the dummy that had a cloth wrapped around it. "Aomine will demonstrate."

The dark-haired boy, upon receiving approval from the redhead, swung his sword that had been dipped in ink. Two large splashes of color appeared on the dummy; one cutting across the heart and another staining the head.

"A slash across the heart and the head is one point." Akashi signaled for the next set.

Casually, Aomine strode round to the back of dummy and jabbed the back of its neck before quickly moving in to slide his sword across the dummy's throat.

"Hitting the back of the neck or slicing cleanly across the throat is worthy of two points."

Before Akashi could issue the next command, the demonstrator had already moved ahead. With lithe grace and monstrous speed, he made quick work of the dummy, slashing its four limbs and at a point a few inches below its stomach. He then swung down his sword triumphantly, splattering the remnants of the paint on concrete.

"—and that is a three pointer." Akashi narrated dryly about his companion's enthusiasm.

Aomine gave a thumbs-up to someone behind them.

Kuroko wasn't even allowed the chance to turn before two arrows shot timely one after another, varying in trajectories. The first was simple; an accomplishable straight arrow for the heart. The second however, was a far cry from the first with its insanely high trajectory that curved dramatically before it descended with astonishing speed, hitting the middle of the dummy's head exactly. He couldn't help but bite his lip to hold back a laugh. As impressive as it was, why was it necessary for it to be shot at such a high angle where the arrow would then be susceptible to the winds of the atmosphere?

That impression, however, was only momentary.

When he finally turned around to see who had shot the arrow, his eyes couldn't help but widen slightly in shock. Midorima stood at least two hundred yards away from the dummy, not even looking triumphant about his feat. His expression was bland, as if it had only been natural to achieve such an impossible task.

Even if he was armed with a longbow that allowed shots to be taken over a great distance, it still did take considerable arm strength, accuracy and calculation to achieve such a standard. Taking all the external factors in his stride with minimal error, Kuroko could no longer find the heart to laugh but was only left awestruck at his skill.

"An arrow to the heart or head is a three pointer," Akashi voiced, making him snap out of his self-induced reverence for Midorima. "It is determined by a single small spot, like how the slash to heart is determined by the indents on the foam that will be strapped over your heart.

"The elimination point scoring system serves two purposes. One, should no winning condition be met by the end of ten minutes, the amount of points each team has accumulated determines the score. Two, the total score from Inter-High is used as a means to filter out weaker academies and schools. It is to make things fairer since we do it in a group stage fashion. Some might be unlucky to have extremely strong opponents and using that factor to moderate instead of just looking at the winner of each match serves as a good tool for equality."

"That is quite detailed." Kuroko asserted, a rare tone of excitement seeping into his voice.

"Not without years of trials and testing," replied Akashi before continuing. "To match you to the standards of a nationally strong team, you will go through a vigorous training regime designed by Momoi and myself. I would ask of you to cut down on the vanilla milkshakes you enjoy and eat more substantial food if you want to survive."

The teal-haired person froze. ' _He noticed?'_

"Yes, I have." The redhead answered his silent question. "Thankfully, summer vacation is approaching. Nothing yields better results than constant training."

Aomine ruffled Kuroko's hair in pity. "Good luck with your demon—I mean vigorous training. You'll need it."

"Aomine, your training menu is quadrupled."

The dark-haired boy cussed under his breath.

He wasn't one to be reduced to tears so easily, but receiving fourfolds of Hell from Akashi no less would make even the toughest men cry. He looked around desperately for his pink-haired childhood friend to spare him a thought and lighten the punishment, only to restrain his desperate cry, for she was still in the infirmary.

But truly, Kuroko couldn't find the heart to disagree with his reaction when he had received his training menu.

It was nothing short of the seven levels of Hell as he glanced through it, wondering if he could even survive the ruthless regime they called a training menu. He didn't even dare to flip to the next page where his schedule for summer vacation was held, fearing its content and for his life.

Silently, he waved goodbye to the days of comfortable sleep without sore muscles and the vanilla milkshakes that he craved.

The detail-oriented redhead had incorporated what he should intake as food, apparently.

And underneath it, bolded and underlined in an elegant script was a note: **You will follow it.**

The teal-haired boy clapped his hands together with the paper in between, muttering a prayer: "If I live through this, I'll start worshipping a God."

Because Akashi Seijuuro was _definitely_ a demon in disguise.

* * *

 **CHECK MY PROFILE FOR THE MAP LINK! (Trust me, you'll need it)**

* * *

Kuroko's hands shook in nervous anticipation for the War Games he had trained so hard for.

He recalled the months of toiling in the heat, and the varying levels of pain he had endured for this moment, for his first official match.

Kuroko wasn't sure how he had lived through the tight regime and the constant pressure of being pushed beyond his limits.

He had nearly drowned, fallen off a cliff, face planted a window and felt so sore that he thought he wouldn't be able to move for a month. All sorts of harrowing tales had blossomed from the hellish training, forming memories he suspected that he wouldn't be able to forget even if he tried. It had brought him an awkward sort of relief when he had found out that the abilities of his newfound acquaintances didn't come from natural talent alone - albeit to the fact that they had plenty to spare - it had to be cultivated to some extent.

But alas, who was he to complain?

It had yielded great results at the price of momentary pain and scarring experiences, inevitably allowing him to participate in something that he was growing to love. While his stamina was still abysmal (a fact that Akashi was still puzzling over), he had to admit his swordplay had become more refined and his archery wasn't as horrible as before. All the different exercises had increased his speed immensely and his pivots and twists could be executed with greater finesse.

Kuroko had shocked everyone when he had passed the tests to enter the first string participants on his first try, although he still looked as if a breeze could knock him off his feet. Although the coach and first string members had affirmed that it wasn't a fluke, it had done nothing to stop them from treating him like a social pariah.

He personally didn't care about their additional schemes, even if they had remembered him. He had never felt the need to prove his strength – he didn't need someone else to define his worth. He knew he had worked hard, so why should he feel guilty?

In fact, the teal-haired practitioner wasn't sure if he should feel offended that they had originally excluded him from their own stratagems to win such that he had easily bypassed all their plans and clutched victory in the course.

To be specific, he didn't understand why they found it necessary to use such underhanded methods to win when they were capable of marvelous feats themselves. He was not amused that people would resort to such methods for victory – it felt downright idiotic in fact – especially since they could have expended the energy and brain cells that they had used to plan such elaborate ploys for proper productive training.

Hell, he _knew_ some of them were more than capable, having been in the same torturous camp as they were.

Kuroko snapped out of his reverie when the coach tapped on the clipboard thrice, the sharp sound catching his attention. He gazed up at the speaker intently, ready to absorb any plans that were already in place for the match.

The coach, seeing that he had captured everyone's attention, began speaking. "The starting members will be Akashi, Aomine, Haizaki, Kuroko, Midorima, and Murasakibara. That is all."

Hearing his name announced made the teal-haired member freeze in place, wondering if he was hearing things. His cerulean blue eyes suddenly looked unnaturally wide on his face, his mind still repeating the words in his mind in horror.

Aomine, seeing his partner even more pale than usual, slapped his back, causing him to flinch.

"Tetsu, stop being so tense," joked the dark-haired boy.

Kuroko's head twisted jerkily to look at him. "... Eh? Did you say something, Aomine-kun?"

Said person sighed in exasperation. "Like I said, relax… Seriously, didn't you manage to pass the test in one shot? You'll do fine."

"It's different, Aomine-kun." He deadpanned. "I was mentally prepared last time. This is too sudden… It's my f-first time in an official match."

"Don't stutter, it's weird." Aomine remarked before his expression morphed into shock. "Wait, seriously? You've never been in a match even during camp?!"

The phantom player looked away. "They didn't notice me…."

"Just don't drag us down and you'll be fine." Murasakibara commented, overhearing their conversation.

"And what are all of you doing?" The coach demanded. "Get to the meeting point!"

The participants murmured their apologies, standing up and trudging towards the middle building.

When Aomine turned to check on Kuroko again, he couldn't help but ask in concern. "Are you really okay, Tetsu?"

"I'm fine, Aomine-kun." Kuroko muttered, his face looking ashen despite the hood covering his face.

' _He's definitely not okay…'_ He thought warily, seeing how his shadow looked like a newborn lamb with the way his legs trembled as he walked. ' _He's not going to make it….'_

"Kuroko calm down. First, relax—" Akashi tried to console him, only to be stunned speechless when the teal-haired person fell flat on his face.

To be exact, he tripped on positively nothing.

"Tetsu, are you okay?"Aomine asked in alarm, completely bewildered. Where did the usually stoic and composed person he knew go to?

Kuroko got up unsteadily after a moment, nodding. "I tripped on my own feet. I'm fine."

A trail of blood trickled out of his nose.

"No you're not!" Aomine snapped, slapping his forehead.

"Kuroko, you're subbed out for the first bout." Akashi decided, the resolution in his eyes leaving no room for discussion.

Kuroko could only sulk as he walked back to the bench. Nijimura patted his shoulder comfortingly and took his place.

"Kuro-chin is impossible…" Murasakibara sighed, chewing on a carrot.

Midorima pushed his glasses up as if in agreement. "He was subbed out after one second."

"That is truly beyond my expectations…" Akashi mused.

"Tetsu…."

"But there are no benefits from dwelling on my miscalculations," Akashi said as he started to walk towards the middle building again, signaling for the rest to follow. "Kuroko will regain his bearings soon and we have a round to win."

"Let's win this for Kuroko, shall we?" Nijimura said, striding in front of them.

Kuroko could only make out a few details from the position he was seated at since the location forced participant and spectator alike to seek higher elevation in order to see what was happening. And being at ground level, skirting around the official compound no less, he was at a disadvantage, having to deal with seeing only heads and fleeting shadows.

But with the buildings so close together, exposing oneself to higher ground wasn't a valid option either because it would make one vulnerable to being targeted.

All he had known was that his light - despite being a prodigious talent - had been stopped by an 'annoying pest', quoted from the boy himself and nothing more. Kuroko hadn't managed to catch a glimpse of the action or the method used to stop Aomine and his feral instincts. However, from the disgruntled look on his partner's face and the blue splatter that went across his heart when he returned to the tent, it clearly wasn't a pretty scene as he had been dominated.

If one knew Aomine Daiki's skill well enough, they'd be surprised by it because Aomine was a force to be reckoned with on his own, and stopping his streak was a difficult task. Even if he was still developing his talent, it was not something that most could match up to.

From the dark-haired boy's refusal to speak and the way he worked his jaw left and right with narrowed eyes, it was clear that agitation was too mild a description for his state of mind. He was deaf to all the world and anyone could figure out that he was planning how to get even with his newfound enemy.

Things continued to spiral downhill in the first bout.

All the staff and members of Teiko could only suffer in silence and look impassive as they watched a pair of Seiho members charge at Murasakibara, their assault obstinate in nature until the purple-haired giant fell to their offence. They hated the exultant look that came over their faces as they looked at them over their shoulders, clearly trying to rile a reaction out of them.

A bald boy with thick eyebrows had even went as far as 'whispering' insults, pushing Aomine to the brink of his short temper. Had Momoi not kept an iron grip on his hand and forced him to concentrate on calming his mind, he would have had no reservation in punching that trash-talking miscreant.

From the way Midorima returned with a blue spot on his chest while clenching his lucky item tightly, probably having fallen to the opponent's arrow, he clearly shared the same opinion as Aomine.

The greenhead, having come from a noble family, was less vocal about his frustration, only cursing his horoscope's damnable luck for the day. Murasakibara looked enraged; his usually bored expression becoming one of annoyance, and that emotion alone was enough to give him the incentive to strike back at them hard in the second bout.

Only Akashi came back to the resting tent unscathed, but from the lack of his usual easy attitude, he was also affected by the sour mood of his allies.

The second bout should have been Teiko's.

But of course, there were always the disagreeable words of 'should have'.

Teiko had quickly eliminated three members of Seiho, one dispatched by the annoyed purple giant and a pair meeting the same fate after having stepped into the warpath of the dark-haired fiend.

They were confident that they would win this round. There was no room for doubt when they had yet to suffer any casualties and they knew how much of a monster Murasakibara was when emotions forced him into motion. They had an impenetrable defence and rapid offence – all the pieces needed to control the game according to their will.

Seiho had no pieces left to move. The defender had to religiously guard the flag and their playmaker Ryuhei had already been taken out. All that they were left with was the estranged with movements that went awry without command.

But with the loud horn that pierced through the still air, signifying a foul instead of defeat – the thunderous bass that sounded in two quick clips - tension immediately filled the air.

 _Which side got a foul? Who would face defeat?_

The answers that both sides wanted were quickly answered when they arrived at the site of the commotion. Satsuki and Kuroko could only mentally rub their temples as they looked at Aomine who looked ready to kill, but only to have his attempts ruined by Nijimura and Midorima who were tasked to hold him back.

The dark-haired boy looked furious – he struggled against their vice-like grips without a care for his appearance, his pupils enlarged and glaring fixedly at his injured opponent. His feet occasionally flailed in the air impetuously to try and land a blow, his teeth gnashing together.

Aomine didn't care if he would get a second foul for beating Tsugawa into a sorry pulp; he knew it would gain him enough satisfaction from teaching the bald boy a lesson with his fists. And at the very least, that foul would be well deserved compared to the act that Tsugawa was currently putting up.

He loathed the grim expression of pain that the bald boy put on and the way he gripped onto his supposedly injured arm. Everything about it screamed that it was a lie to him who had purposefully restrained himself to avoid such situations, partially stemming from all the gruelling training and consequences he had been through. With all that considered, it was infuriating how _blind_ the referee was, especially since it had happened right in front of him.

He didn't care that the vision-impaired referee was signalling for him to stand down and he was definitely all but deaf to the words of his own companions. Their soothing words and warnings went unheard although it prodded the back of his mind; all that consumed him was piping hot fury.

The short smirks that Tsugawa often gave him when the referee's attention was turned away from him did not go unmissed by his senses that were sharpened by anger. The red gleam that smeared across Aomine's eyes seemed to intensify, an almost tangible bloodlust seeping out from him.

There was no room for doubt – he was ready to slaughter, blunt weapon be damned.

The referee, seeing that the perpetrator was not one to become composed any time soon, quickly gave the verdict, not wanting to see bloodshed. Judging from the expressions of the Teiko members - many of them masking their own anger behind their exasperation - the judge swore that he was frightened by the damage that they might have been able to wreck.

He quickly perished the thought – it was unthinkable that students from a distinguished academy and the majority from noble peerage would be able to cause the damage he visualized. They would be savages if they had gone to that extent and they were certainly raised with morals.

Yet why did he still feel tingling fear course through his body as he saw the gleaming in their differently coloured eyes? They all looked focused and deadly – especially the red-haired whose pupils had become vertical slits.

"Aomine Daiki of Teiko Academy has used excessive force against Tsugawa of Seiho Academy. Following the rules, Aomine Daiki is fouled and the round point immediately goes to Seiho. Seiho match point, Teiko nil."

Akashi shared an exasperated look with his greenhead friend who could only sigh, complying with his silent command. He slapped his hand over Aomine's mouth in disgust, preventing him from shouting profanities and losing them the entire match.

Collectively, Nijimura and Midorima hauled the hot-headed prodigy back to their resting tent, only releasing him when he was well and away.

The rest of the unoccupied Teiko members sent a fleeting glance at the backs of Seiho who were helping Tsugawa away, frowning when they saw him swing his arm like crazy when he had just turned the corner.

Unconsciously, they clenched their fists in annoyance, suddenly realizing that they wished that Aomine had beaten him up.

Only when they had reached their resting tent, the pair tasked with subduing Aomine let him off, ignoring the glare that he gave them. The dark-haired boy stomped his feet, wishing so much that the ground beneath him was Tsugawa.

"That baldy bastard," Aomine snarled, kicking the tree behind their resting area and causing some leaves to shake loose.

"Dai-chan, language!" Satsuki scolded while she passed the enraged individual a canteen and towel.

He snatched the towel and wrapped it around his neck; her words went unheeded as he continued to talk in raps. "Excessive force? What excessive force?" The dark-haired boy spat. "I bet my arm that he'll be back next round like some energized and annoying bunny."

Nijimura chuckled, disregarding his anger. "Aomine, you're being too hot-headed. You should calm down first."

"I'll calm down when I tear that smug grin off his face and separate his limbs and—"

The hilt of a dagger thwacked him suddenly, effectively silencing him.

Aomine turned around swiftly to glare at the offender, ready to vent some of his fury - only to have some of it quelled when he realized who it was. Ever since the beginning of their partnership, the calm, complementary shadow of his had never been his target of ire. Or rather – he could never find the heart or strength to be angry at the teal-haired boy, who leveled with him with logic and reigned in his outbursts in the simplest manner.

"What do you want, Tetsu?" He asked irritably.

Said person stared back into his eyes. "Aomine-kun, you should calm down or you would fall for Tsugawa-san's ploy again. You should take one bout to calm down."

"Then who will play? You?" He accused, wanting very much to get even with his nemesis.

He knew it was a low blow that he had directly poked at the fact that Kuroko was trembling in fear of failing his first official match with the lack of filter from his brain to mouth, but he couldn't care less.

"Yes," Kuroko answered his provocation.

Murasakibara ruffled his teal hair. "Kuro-chin, you'll really do it?"

"Someone has to rinse Aomine-kun of his anger. Who else would be better suited to it than his shadow?" He asked no one in particular. "I've watched them long enough to know how Seiho will move and react. Akashi-san, you were already planning a clean sweep, weren't you?"

The redhead couldn't help the reflexive action of his lips curling into a smirk, his pupils becoming vertical slits. Although Kuroko looked lacking in most aspects compared to him, they were still two peas in a pod when it came to scheming. The seemingly innocent, most harmless-looking person in their group was dubbed a phantom – a term usually used to describe nefarious things – for the same reason.

But as soon as the smile appeared, it disappeared with a flash, as if it had never been there in the first place. "I appreciate the fighting spirit you have, but keep it hidden. As much as possible, avoid having your emotions coming to the surface. You should conscious of your lack of presence and control it - be miserly about it. Only then, your style will become a deadly weapon."

The teal-haired person hung onto every word the vice-captain of the team had said. He closed his eyes deliberately and inhaled deeply, urging his mind and heart to calm to its usual slow tempo. As if in a trance, he opened his cerulean eyes slowly, now looking utterly devoid of any emotion.

Murasakibara and Aomine, who had been straining their ears to listen in on their quiet conversation couldn't help but feel surprised. The purple-haired giant even went as far as rubbing his eyes, wondering if his vision had become demented.

Why did they feel like their phantom player could disappear the moment they took their eyes off of from him? Where did the sudden pulsating need to be forcefully aware of Kuroko come from?

Akashi, seeing that what he said had properly sunk in, smiled once more.

"I presume you know your role, Kuroko."

Cerulean blue eyes stared back at him impassively as he pulled up his hood. "It is impolite to ask questions you already know the answers to, Akashi-san."

The entire group shivered as sinister intent seemed to seep out of the duo.

' _Demons,'_ they thought simultaneously, ' _they are definitely demons'._

The devilish pair broke away from their silent conversation.

"We'll be capturing the flag with a single casualty. Haizaki, you'll be aiding Midorima in…. _Disposing_ —" He enunciated carefully with a small cruel smile— "Tsugawa. Murasakibara, you will be on defense as per usual. Nijimura-senpai, please go after the flag. Look out for Kuroko's signals."

Just as he dished out all his orders, the horn that signaled that the third bout was about to begin sounded. The participants left their resting tents and moved towards the midpoint of the flags.

Kuroko made sure no one caught on with his appearance as he stocked his fake weapons with ink.

"Oh, Aomine isn't playing?" Tsugawa said in discontentment as he surveyed Teiko's participants. "And I had wanted to annoy him more so that he would get another foul… Guess Teiko's expectations are slipping since they sent someone so weak…."

The bald boy looked at the hooded figure pointedly in discouragement.

"I apologize for being weaker than Aomine-kun," Kuroko murmured, his voice devoid of any emotion. "But no matter what, I will help him triumph over you – by proxy."

Tsugawa grinned good-naturedly, albeit mockingly, at his determination. "Teiko is _weak_. And it's already our match point, what could _you_ do about it?"

"Something rather than nothing." said Kuroko, framing his words in such a way that his disposition was like frigid ice.

Tsugawa sneered. "If you're even capable of it."

"I'll try not to disappoint then." Kuroko concluded, walking away from the person he was tempted to punch the living daylights of.

The judges signaled for the designated person to enter first. The teal-haired person easily slipped past the Seiho members and into the compound, a gleam of smugness apparent in his eyes when none of them paid attention to him in particular.

No, he would not feel offended that they did not notice him. Kuroko Tetsuya would ensure that they would pay for the consequence of misjudging the strength that Teiko possessed.

Failure was not an option. Victory was certain.

Ten minutes later, the horn sounded for five seconds.

The third bout, with Seiho at match point while Teiko was at nil – began.

Wasting no time at all, they all rushed to the places that Kuroko had marked for each them. One might wonder what markings were placed. It was a simple and yet almost insignificant thing. Latched onto some windows, colored fabrics that coordinated with their bizarre shades of hair stood out subtly against the black window sills.

Haizaki was the first to sprint off to the middle building to hide while Midorima covered half the distance across the court to gain access to the back building. Akashi followed soon after, except he took a defensive stance at the connectors between the middle and the back building. Nijimura stayed at the base with Murasakibara who had to defend, knowing that it was not time for him to move yet.

The greenhead halted in his tracks as he reached the first second level connector to grab the pigeon that was hopping around the tiled floor scavenging for food, his hands fumbling slightly as he tried to release the clasp that held the message.

 **RUN UP TO FOUR.**

Just as he finished reading, a loud cry echoed through the hallway he was in. Crumpling the message in his taped hand, he started running again, ignoring the furious shouts behind him. It was a telltale sign that Seiho's defenses were in place and he had only one chance to set out to accomplish his task.

He let the pigeon fly out of the window with no apparent target as he climbed up the next flight of stairs, going two steps at a time. Mentally, he thanked the ingenious and devil-like Akashi Seijuuro for all the arduous training he had put him through, once he saw the expanding distance between his person and his opponents.

He slid to a halt at the fourth level while making a ninety degree counter-clockwise turn before pushing off with his right leg towards the arrow that lay on the ground. With one fell swoop, he picked it up and nocked it onto the bowstring, facing it out of the open window.

' _Five seconds'_ , his mind urged, roughly estimating from the sound of the approaching footsteps.

He quickly surveyed the area.

The mobile artillery of Seiho along with another, was behind him. Tsugawa was out in the open by the middle building. Akashi was fending two people off by himself.

A moment of indecision surfaced. What should he do? Who should he help?

' _Two seconds…_. " _Dispose Tsugawa."'_ He remembered the latter order.

Midorima gritted his teeth and changed his aim. He knew it would hit its mark despite the abrupt swing; he had practiced it far too many times for it to fail.

He let the arrow loose.

He sent a fleeting glance at the arrow that cut through the still air before he focused on the enemies that descended upon him.

The sudden distraction of a dagger flying out of the classroom door right next to him with horrible accuracy bought him time to shoot two arrows at his opponents, giving him a precious second to escape. The sheer force of a close-ranged arrow made his opponents gasp as it hit them square in the gut, slowing their reactions.

There were no further instructions for the archer. He was on his own.

The first arrow wasn't supposed to miss its mark. It was supposed to be a clean hit with no mistakes. But from the frantic shouts of his teammates, Tsugawa had already seen the projectile coming.

The bald boy knocked away the arrow and split it into half with practiced ease, sneering. He raised his eyebrows in the direction where the greenhead was running, as if to question how that was supposed to accomplish anything.

However, in his moment of arrogance, Haizaki, who was lurking around at the bottom level of the middle building, was given the chance to pounce. While his skills were subpar compared to Aomine's, a distracted person could never deflect his blows. He never cared for personal vendettas unless it was his own but like the others – he hated to be called _weak_.

The grey-haired boy blinked into Tsugawa's vision in seconds, fuelled by utter aggravation for him. His blood sung for him to make his opponent eat the dust and he merrily complied to his own bloodlust. Cutting up Tsugawa up harshly with his fake sword across his four limbs and stomach, he smirked when he heard his opponent groan.

Before Tsugawa could let out his last yell to notify his teammate that he was dead, Haizaki had already stuffed a bunch of his hood's fabric into his mouth, gagging him.

"Shut up." He snarled, thwacking him in the side once more.

The bald boy glared at his opponent as he spat out the cloth which ruined his chance of communication. He could only sulk in defeat as he looked at the paint splashed onto his hood and clothes, cursing himself slightly for letting his guard down.

When he turned around to return to his resting tent, his eyes caught onto something.

Splattered in color of the losers for the previous bout, obsidian black words ran across a surface of a window – **BY PROXY.**

He clenched his fists in anger at the blatant mockery, throwing his sword on the ground and storming off the match compound. But before he could take ten steps, the victory horn for Teiko sounded. A triumphant Nijimura held the flag while Seiho's defender looked flabbergasted, unaware of when he had crept up and taken the flag since he was distracted by the short-lived fight between Tsugawa and Haizaki.

Like Tsugawa, his complacence was his own undoing.

Just as he was under the presumption that Tsugawa could handle himself and that he could aid his teammates in fighting the menace known as Akashi, who was handling two opponents with ease, he had neglected the flag.

Nijimura had crossed the distance of two courts without breaking a sweat when he had saw a thumbs up sign peeking out of one of the windows, a permission of sorts for him to spring into action. He had conquered the flag when Seiho's defender had taken only five steps away – thus achieving victory for Teiko.

Midorima, who was out of breath from sprinting for the entire duration of the bout, heaved a silent sigh of relief. He walked away looking unruffled, as if he hadn't been chased up and down the building three times. Akashi, similar in countenance, eased away from his defensive stance and sauntered off, but not without a swing of his sword that splattered some black paint onto the grey uniforms of his opponents.

Although he didn't say it, the Seiho members felt a chill go down their spines.

The silent warning rang in the air from his refined movements of the sword that could have cut them down so easily. The vice-captain of Teiko could have eliminated them if he wished but he had _chosen_ to drag on the fight. He had _chosen_ to let them live, to let them _know_ that he had been merciful.

Teiko did not cheer for their first victory out of three bouts. They remained sangfroid through the transitions of resting and gathering once more for the next bout, completely unperturbed by the fact that it was still Seiho's match point.

Even the aggressive Aomine seemed eerily calm, his usually expressive navy eyes empty of his competitive spirit. From his current posture to his aura, it lacked the usual presence of an uncouth animal, making it a queer situation that Seiho could not understand.

The Captain of Seiho, Iwamura, couldn't help but feel wary of them.

And he had every right to be.

When the fourth bout began, they could not find a trace of any of the members of Teiko other than Murasakibara, who was eating a carrot near their flag. They were not fooled by his bored and distracted appearance, for it could be very well be a mask to capture or slaughter. They had decided to keep a distance until the movement of the others was confirmed because they wanted a clean victory in the bout.

For five minutes, they could not find any of them. There was neither a footstep heard nor a glimpse of their outrageous colors for hair, only the rhythmic sounds of their light, apprehensive footsteps echoing through the hallway. The pressure they felt was like a mammoth upon their chests, deriving from the fear that spurred endlessly in their minds like some kind of gear train.

It was impossible that they had disappeared into thin air. They were beings made of similar matter to them, but where could they have gone to? Where did the loud and arrogant Haizaki and Aomine go? The mobile artillery and sixth man of Seiho, Ryuhei, who was famed for his skills in making plays, was equally puzzled. How could one turn any situation around when there was none to begin with?

It boggled the minds of the Seiho players, who were left a bundle of frazzled nerves from the anticipation, nervously surveying their surroundings, waiting for the unexpected that never came.

On occasion they swore that they saw a pair of cerulean blue eyes staring at them as they roamed the halls but they wiped it off shakily when they realized that there was no one there.

And had there even been a cerulean blue-eyed opponent?

They desperately dug their memories for answers but came up with none. Their minds had cast away the person of weak presence, thinking of the hooded figure as no threat and with no active participation. They could ignore it once, perhaps even twice, but come the third time; they were already rooted with fear, their glances often fleeting, afraid to see something undesirable.

Tsugawa, who could have solved the mystery, had brushed it off, still thinking that the teal-haired person was an insignificant being that could not match up to the other players of Teiko.

They would pay with the consequences of that mistake once more.

By the time the timer had hit the six minute mark, paranoia overwhelmed them. Unable to stand the stifling tension and the unknown, the Seiho members had decided to put up a united front against the purple giant who was eating another carrot, and capture the flag.

The Seiho defender, in his restlessness, had crept closer to the middle building to witness the overhaul of points.

And like a snake slithering through fields, Teiko struck.

Unilateral victory was sounded when he had taken fifteen steps away, only to turn around in shock when three members of Teiko - Aomine, Akashi and Haizaki - touched the flag simultaneously.

Causing no casualties in the entire match – whether friend or foe – had initiated the special condition of the game. Collectively with the round point and five points tabulated into the point elimination scoring system, seven were added to the latter scoring system.

It had all been part of Akashi's plan.

It was common knowledge that Seiho was renowned for their defense and unique martial arts training that boasted expending less energy with precise twists and a formidable balance. With such distinctive traits, it was simple to make out what kind of ploy would hit them the hardest.

Hence, it had been a definitive that being able to slip past their boisterous defenses without getting caught would be a huge blow to their reputation.

It had all been a matter of coordinating the information and common patterns of their routes and moving their phantom player around correctly. They gained immediate intel through Kuroko Tetsuya and sneaked around Seiho, giving the illusion that they had disappeared.

War Games, more often than not, were like Shogi.

A detailed, psychological warfare that could work in your favor if one knew how to use their pieces to the maximum capacity. And fortunately, it was the place where the Emperor thrived.

He purposely made sure that his cerulean-blue eyed teammate was seen, no matter how short the exposure. The true depths of fear came from one's imagination – a fact that he knew very well. And from the small smile that his accomplice returned, he clearly enjoyed it as well.

With those steps taken, it had led to their easy victory in the fourth bout; bringing them to match point with Seiho.

The final bout was beginning.

With half an eye kept on Ryuhei who had entered the match grounds ten minutes before the actual bout along with him, Kuroko's mind couldn't help but recall the brief conversation that he had with Akashi.

" _He reacted to my random appearances the fastest. He didn't think of me as an apparition and nearly counterattacked."_

The teal-haired person frowned slightly. It was a worrisome matter for the Phantom member; the whole point of his participation was based on the fact that he wasn't noticed. If he was taken in consideration in their the schemes against Teiko, his infinite possibilities of movement would shrink immensely.

He knew that he was pushing it to think that his effectiveness would last for three bouts straight, especially when he was still inexperienced with the pressure of official matches and bound to make mistakes.

But even with the possibilities of a blunder, Kuroko Tetsuya would do it.

He would serve the defeat and the information of his enemies to his allies on the hypothetical silver platter, even if it meant that his severed limbs would be dragged along by the waiter.

He quickly reached his favored position that gave him a vantage point and cover simultaneously; the room at the end of the middle block on the third floor that was filled with musical instruments. While he had chosen it due to its coverage, it was also one of the places that Seiho was least likely to check for estranged opponents.

It lacked space for large movements - the majority of the things sprawled on the ground in disarray would cause a ruckus if they were to fall. While the disadvantages applied to him, it meant little. He evaded, not fought, and worst come to worst, he could always jump out of the window.

Kuroko held back a cough as the stale, musty air infiltrated his nose, careful to maneuver around small and big objects alike. He leaned his back against the wall, his eyes straining to see Seiho's courtyard through the gap of the two thick blinds. The concentrated light that filtered into the dark room blinded him for a few moments, causing him to blink furiously to adapt to the change of light intensity.

Mentally, he wondered where Ryuhei would position himself at. He released the small cage that was jutting at his hip, spinning it slowly to see if the bird was injured. As if to reply to his concerns, the bird chirped once, fluttering open his wings slightly in the enclosed space.

The loud horn that suddenly sounded scared both person and animal, causing Kuroko to gaze sharply through the gap once more.

He looked hurriedly at the clock when he noticed that three people were heading quickly to the middle building, his mind calculating if it would clash with their archer.

He was filled with dread when he realized that they would clash with Midorima once more, and he was in awful need of time to inform someone. Bounding across the room and out, he pulled out a red fabric from his pocket and latched it onto the window with two arrows from his quiver before pulling out a capsule of blue ink that he had swiped previously.

While he busied himself, he saw a flash of red approaching the middle building just as the greenhead's last yell rang out. His fingers fumbled from shock, nearly dropping the capsule his hand was dipped into.

Kuroko pulled the bird out of its cage and caused it to squeal due to the force he exerted, meticulously quick as he dabbed ink onto both wings. For extra precaution, he tucked a blue piece of fabric into its clasp, praying that the targeted recipient wasn't blind to the message.

He sat on the window sill and inhaled a hurried breath. Just as he had done that, he pushed his torso out, hooking his feet to ensure that he wouldn't fall.

He was sure he would never get used to the danger of falling as his stomach lurched involuntarily. He ignored the sudden fear that plagued him, pushing away the old memories of failure that had nearly been fatal and tightened his muscles that were hooking him to the window sil.

' _Fly'_ , his mind silently urged as he swung his hands to send the pigeon into the window below, heaving a sigh of relief when he heard the yelp of his opponents. He waited for a few moments, feeling a wave of vertigo from tilted vision hit him, needing to know the results to his efforts.

He internally cheered when he heard an unnatural clatter onto the ground below, signaling that someone was disarmed and defeated. He pulled himself up and ran towards the stairs in light steps, glancing down at the winding stairs to see Aomine clashing with the enemy that had retreated away from their vice-captain.

' _Akashi-kun will be fine.'_

Just as he walked away from the stairs, he couldn't help but comply with his screaming instincts that told him to swing his sword. Inches before the flying projectile hit his face, it was sent sailing to the wall next to him from the interfering force.

His head swung towards the direction of his assailant, his eyes narrowing on the figure of Ryuhei that was standing in the middle of the back block with his bow still poised before him. He unconsciously gripped the small bow that was strapped onto his back; a long-ranged weapon used more for guiding misinterpretation that he was a bowman than shooting.

Kuroko wasn't confident that he could shoot an arrow that could hit. The only thing that he was sure about was that Ryuhei's arrows would miss its mark from deflection because Seiho's sixth man did not possess the skill to fire precise arrows or a barrage like Midorima. After countless practices with the greenhead, he knew what true terror from a bow and arrow was. Anything less could never compare.

Then, before he could decided on his next course of action, Ryuhei did something that he had dreamt of in the worst circumstances.

He yelled out his position and announced his existence, completely shattering the illusion of a phantom present that Teiko had elaborately cast.

Kuroko muttered curses he had learnt from Aomine as he sprinted back into the stairway and up. He ducked into the nearest storeroom he saw, praying that the mobile artillery hadn't seen his movements fast enough.

He pressed his thin body against the boxes and cleaning equipment that was jammed packed into the room, trying to exert the least amount of pressure he could on the items.

' _There's no way that anyone could come up.'_ He thought as he calmed his frantic breathing. He closed his eyes as he recalled the positions of both his allies and opponents. He had seen the captain of Seiho running towards the back building to where Ryuhei was, and two out of three who were heading towards the middle building taken out. Seiho's defender had stayed at where he was while another patrolled nearby.

Teiko meanwhile, was scattered. Haizaki was unlikely to follow commands but he would lurk near the flag. Akashi and Aomine was probably still on the second level, Midorima was already taken out of the equation, a terrible mistake that shouldn't have been made and Murasakibara could handle himself at the flag.

' _Two out of three only?'_ He froze. He strained his memory in attempt to remember.

There were only three different sets of footsteps, so where was the fourth?

In the silence of the floor that he was on, every sound was amplified.

What would have been soundless footsteps in a crowded hallway had become deafening, which made it impossible for Kuroko's heartbeat not to spike. He could feel the looming footsteps and the rare occasions where the tip of a wooden sword would scrape lightly against the ground.

His hands moved towards the sword that was strapped at his waist and the dagger holstered at his thigh. He gripped the handle of both weapons, contemplating which one would be the best.

Would he choose the weapon he excelled at or the weapon that was most used?

He gave himself no further time to think as he heard the footsteps walk past him, pulling the unlocked door open so fast that his opponent wouldn't have time to react to the door crashing against the wall and pounced.

Like water, his right hand clamped onto his opponent's mouth and his left fluidly drew the dagger and placed it at his throat.

For a moment, he relished his opponent's fear.

It was double the ecstasy when he realized it was the same opponent that had underestimated him. The bald boy's pupils were dilated with fear as they looked at him, the proper control of his limbs leaving him as his sword clattered onto the floor. Cold sweat started form on Tsugawa's head as he tried to let out a scream that he could not, unable to retaliate from the suddenness of the situation.

"I warned you that it would be by proxy." Kuroko murmured coolly, his dagger slitting his throat and drawing a line of red paint across.

He moved away almost instantaneously once he had dealt the death blow, leaving the disconcerted Tsugawa to stagger towards to the wall for support. Sheathing his dagger back wordlessly, he backtracked to the winding stairs and descended with a relaxed pace, his blank appearance revealing nothing about the confidence that welled within.

The fifth bout would be Teiko's.

The corner of his lips couldn't help but curl up when the victory horn for his academy sounded. He pulled his hood lower to hide it although there was no one in the proximity who would catch him wearing a different expression.

Kuroko tried not to sprint towards the building in excitement but rather took a jog in order to give himself time to calm his nerves. However, the feeling of satisfaction came back at full force when he saw the triumphant looks on his teammate's face – even the Emperor Akashi Seijuuro was affected by it.

To add on to that satisfaction was the disgruntled looks on Seiho's faces. From the large red ink stain that sprayed across the hood of Seiho's captain, he was clearly done in by Murasakibara with his quick wide swings.

The main referee looked around. "Where is Teiko's sixth member of the fourth and fifth bout?"

Unable to help himself, the teal-haired practitioner only replied when he was standing next to Aomine.

"I'm here." He said softly, but loud enough for it travel to the referee and his dark-haired friend and give both of them a fright.

" _Tetsu_ ," bemoaned his partner in exasperation, "would you please stop doing that?"

Kuroko stared back with his cerulean eyes. "Aomine-kun is the one that is lacking."

The referee cleared his throat before Aomine could retort.

"Teiko Academy wins three to two bouts!"

"Thank you very much!" Both teams yelled as they bowed in the spirit of sportsmanship.

As the participants turned around to return back to their resting tents, a yell halted them in their tracks.

"The person in the hood!"

Every member of Teiko turned around to look at the bald boy quizzically. _All_ of them were in commonplace grey hoods as official attire for the War Games. Just who exactly was he referring to?

Tsugawa slapped his forehead in frustration. "The one standing right at the end with their hood still up!"

Kuroko pointed to himself questioningly.

Agitation spiking, he jabbed a finger at the teal-haired person. "Yes you! Why!? Why do _you_ get to win when you did nothing and just rode on their cottontails? You weren't even there last year, so why do you get to win when you've put in less effort?!"

Aomine stepped forward for his partner, peeved at his false accusation. More than anyone else on the team, he knew of the hours that Kuroko had toiled just to meet the bare minimum of the team, the things and directions he had given to lead them to the three bout victory. How could this ignorant miscreant who knew _nothing_ and not even bothering to check if his opponent had poured in effort or not before passing his judgements idiotically say such a foolish thing?

He envisioned pummeling the bald boy into the ground until he was broken and bleeding, begging for forgiveness and apologizing for his faults.

He hated people who insulted his being, but he loathed people who insulted those close to him even more. They had no right to determine a person's capability without even taking a closer look, they had no right to say that a person was useless until they actually knew them.

A firm, cold hand gripped his wrist, wiping clean his bloodied thoughts.

Cerulean blue eyes implored for him to understand that Tsugawa wasn't worth the effort, that he wasn't the first to denounce his effort and that he certainly wouldn't be the last.

Frustration brimmed within the dark-haired boy. He shook his hand away, his fists tightly clenched. "Tch." He scoffed, his glare not faltering.

Iwamura sighed, knowing that Tsugawa had went too far. He grabbed his team member's hood and pulled him back. "Tsugawa, don't step out of the line. He may not have contributed individually but they accomplished it as a team. Just because you didn't see him in action doesn't mean he didn't do anything."

And as if his captain had hit a sore spot within him, his hand moved up to touch the bruise forming on his neck. The Teiko members who had saw the gesture glanced at Kuroko, immediately connecting the dots and yet curious as to how he had accomplished it.

The apathetic sixth man gave nothing away with his impassive expression, making them wonder even more as to what had transpired.

As much as Tsugawa wanted to slap away the hand of his captain, he held himself back, not wanting to disrespect him since he could easily overpower him.

"What's your name?" He spat venomously.

The cerulean blue-eyed practitioner looked back at him in surprise, or at least what his numb facial muscles would allow him.

"Kuroko Tetsuya."

Tsugawa clenched his fists, giving him a scalding glare. "I'll remember that."

Blinking a few times at the unexpected proclamation, Kuroko nodded before turning around once more and heading back with his friends.

The Teiko members teased Kuroko mercilessly about how he was finally getting noticed, making him admit that it was indeed the first time that someone had vowed to keep him in mind.

It made them feel bad when they remembered that he was usually just a fleeting thought, an insignificant detail to most before they had joined them.

Aomine ruffled his hair.

The match between Teiko and Seiho was just the beginning.

* * *

 _I am genuinely so so sorry for the late chapter . This chapter was seriously hell, for both me and my poor (or so I think) beta reader **Sapphyre Lily** collectively.  
It's near 10k words long, something I didn't expect, so I hope it would be... a suitable repayment for my absence. I had examinations going for the past two weeks, and it has ended at long last, thank dragons for that._

Again, thank you for the favorites, follows and reviews.  
Holy guacamole, you guys are crazy, ESPECIALLY the AkaKuro fan.  
Again, I reiterate, that romance will not be the main part of the plot, thus, no pairing will thrive.  
You will understand why that is later. I'll see y'all in the next chapter.


	8. I : GOLD

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basuke.**

* * *

 _ **"I do not miss childhood, but I miss the way I took small pleasure in small things, even when greater things crumbled. I could not control the world I was in, could not walk away from the things or people or moments that hurt, but I took joy in things that made me happy."**_

 _ **\- Neil Gailman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane**_

* * *

 _ **YEAR XX82 (Later in the Year)**_

"He's quickly becoming a hindrance, nanodayo?" Midorima uttered in a low tone as his features turned into a scowl. A hand held the long bow horizontal to his body tightly and another clutched an unused arrow, the strength exerted by his grip capable of breaking the thin wooden stick into two. But for the sake of civility, he kept his strength even although he fervently wished to snap it and chuck it aside.

"Indeed, Haizaki's recent notorious behaviour can no longer be dismissed," answered his redheaded companion while drawing an arrow from the quiver strapped on his back, inspecting it before continuing irritably. "In addition to his irregular attendance, many have complained that he has been getting into frequent fights. Whether it is by pure luck or leniency, he has managed to escape expulsion.

"Keeping him any longer has no merits to the club—" he murmured while nocking an arrow on the bowstring and pulling it to its limit, the cutting pressure causing his gloved fingers to tremble from the opposing force— "and will only further serve to tarnish the strong reputation we have been striving to keep."

Akashi peered at the archery board at the end of the range, shifting his bow slightly before he looked at his greenhead friend. "However, it is quite unfortunate that his skills are the real thing and still a valued asset to obtain victory."

He paused his speech for a moment as he turned back to the archery board and released the arrow he gripped onto, features unsmiling although he had hit the bull's eye. His sienna red eyes were preoccupied for a moment before he looked back at Midorima, his irritation seemingly resolved.

His lips curled into an uncharacteristic smirk, though he looked incredibly relaxed as he ran his fingers through his slightly soaked hair. "No…. Perhaps there will not be a need for him soon."

Midorima sighed inaudibly as he pushed up his glasses, confusion filling the edges of his mind. "Yet again, you sound like you know everything."

Akashi looked at him sharply in amusement. "That is because I do. Speaking of which, how is the new member Kise Ryouta doing? I've heard rumours that he's been rising through the ranks rather quickly."

Midorima returned his gaze with one of suspicion. "It is rare that you take notice of someone, Akashi."

The new captain of the team didn't look bothered by his comment, only moving towards the rack to put back the practice bow. "Is it wrong to be curious about a new member?" he asked politely, the heat present in his eyes like molten magma.

The intensity skyrocketed and Midorima felt a chill go down his spine, as if he had been deprived from the heat provided by the room temperature. He couldn't pinpoint the exact reason why, but the usually calm and composed Akashi Seijuuro had taken on a cold demeanour, almost as if the past two years he spent gaining the trust of the members had been a lie. ' _No, rather…_ ' His mind corrected, ' _it is as if there are two Akashis_.'

While it was the right interpretation, it only made him more befuddled. Which one was real? Was the one he had known all along and respected greatly just an act?

Despite the apprehension that Midorima felt, he responded, having no reason to deny the redhead an answer. "Kise Ryouta earned the qualifications just last week to advance to the first string after joining the team for a month."

"He has exceptional talent despite having less practice than most," Akashi noted.

The vice-captain of the team almost scoffed. "I wouldn't go that far, nanodayo. He's rather lacking compared to most."

"Oh?" Akashi quirked an eyebrow.

"It is true that Kise Ryouta is a learnt practitioner, but he lacks passion for the sport. Without it, his potential becomes limited."

The shrill bell interrupted their conversation momentarily, making Akashi tilt his head to the side idly as he patiently waited for the noise to end.

"I shall speak to the coach personally about this matter. And about my own personal evaluation whether he is fit to be in the first string… There will be chances since we'll be having practice in half an hour." Akashi said before moving towards the locker room.

Midorima pushed his glasses up and pursed his lips. "And since when has something you wanted never been carried out?" He muttered softly after Akashi disappeared behind the door.

The bow practitioner pulled out a cloth that was tucked at his waist and polished his personal weapon, his mind remaining deep in thought as he repeated the mechanical actions. The leader was planning; and he would hope whoever got caught in the crossfire would come out alive.

###

Aomine looked at the scene ahead with uncertainty.

"What is the poster boy for the Academy doing in first string training?" He asked out loud, unable to stop the words from slipping past his lips.

"Beats me," Murasakibara responded in boredom, half-lidded eyes staring at the subject. "But he's surprisingly good."

A peal of laughter reverberated through the court, not unlike like a siren's melody, drawing much of the surroundings' attention to the person. When they had taken notice of him, they couldn't help but notice how good-looking the blonde practitioner was, how he oozed confidence with the easy, almost conceited smile on his face, his wooden sword inches away from his opponent's throat. A thin layer of sweat glistened on his skin from the long duel but it did nothing to decrease his attractiveness.

"It's my win," Kise smiled, allowing his sword arm to hang limply at his side. "Good match, Senpai!"

"He's adaptable." Aomine deduced almost immediately, the boy's glamour having no effect on him. Nothing could ever disconcert him from the sword, and it was for the weapon that he lived and thrived for.

The dark-haired boy was never book smart, but his instincts on swordplay were unparalleled. And being the epitome of a sword-obsessed idiot in the club only further supported the fact that his judgments were hardly wrong. Like Akashi's commands, his words when it came to scrutinizing the opponents were law.

While Satsuki was well-ahead of him in credible information gathering and predictions that she derived from her female intuition, and Kuroko's equally useful psychological observations, his own thoughts completed the data to allow the team a full view of what they were up against. From the simple match between Kise and their senior, he had easily realized that the moves that Kise used to end the match were an exact - perhaps even more refined - copy of the moves that his senior had used. The furious albeit embarrassed look on his senior's face only served to confirm his analysis.

Their seniors admittedly did not possess the same calibre of potential, but they were still good enough to be able to qualify for first string participation with their experience and hard work. They were certainly opponents that gave anyone a fair amount of trouble and though the dark-haired prodigy was skilled, he still found himself dreading fighting against them because they were all too familiar with his style and was intellectually capable of giving him a run for his money. If the Generation of Miracles never existed, their coach often hypothesized; perhaps their seniors would have the limelight and earned a few champion titles for themselves. It wouldn't as prestigious as their track-record but it would definitely be worth noting.

And to have a newcomer best them, one that had less training than them no less, was a huge insult that they could not bear. The poster boy's victory was like aggravating an old wound, because they were pushed off the bench by a similar group of prodigies, and accumulated unhappiness that often threatened to burst out of its seams could not be little.

But the cheerful disposition of the blond boy was contagious - it left the senior with an empty contempt that no longer simmered beneath his skin, appeased by the words that Kise said soon after the match.

"Senpai, you're really skilled! If it had dragged on further, I would definitely have lost! Please teach me more next time we spar, okay?"

The genuine respect that he held for his senior could not be mistaken, even if it sounded way too cheerful for his own liking. He looked straight into the eyes of the senior with an unwavering gaze, performing no action or reflex out of habit or guilt. His body lacked tension, only leaving the exhilaration of winning a match and the prospect of another, his countenance easy to go along with. He was humble in victory through and through; and how could the senior, once seeing that, blow a fuse?

The senior could only half-heartedly agree to his demands but that did not lower the elation that Kise felt. Just as he was about to reply to the senior, the familiar figure of the person he recently started holding in reverence caught his eye. He turned around in excitement, eyes alight.

"Aominecchi!" He chirped.

"-cchi...?" echoed said person, wondering what the random suffix was all about. His eyebrows scrunched, ' _do I even know him?'_

"I was really looking forward to meeting you! After all, I joined this club so that I could duel with you!" gushed Kise like a fanatic, not even a breath space in between as he continued speak. "Do you remember the time you sparred in my annual carnival and won first place? I was there! Your skills are amazing Aominecchi! How did you pull off that last move? The one that went slide and slash and whoosh!"

Aomine waved awkwardly. "Uh... thank you..?! Looking forward to it, Kise-kun." He gave his shadow a quick glance, knowing that yet again, he had been forgotten.

He quickly gestured towards Kuroko, hoping that it would take some of the overwhelming attention off him. "You should also properly greet Kuroko since he's going to be your mentor from now on!"

Kise cocked his head to the side quizzically. "Huh...?"

He scanned the open court, in hopes of finding this mysterious figure that had been made his mentor. The person should be rather skilled if he was his mentor right? Not that he doubted the quality of the members in the first string, but the person would have to be extraordinary in order to be a mentor right? … Right?

Aomine slapped his forehead. "He's right next to you."

Like a dysfunctional doll, Kise twisted his neck stiffly to the side, unsure of how to react when he finally caught sight of a mop of teal blue hair entering his field of vision. Fear engulfed him, and he forcefully tilted his head downwards to fully scrutinize his mentor.

Impassive cerulean blue eyes stared at him earnestly. Pale thin lips parted to speak. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Kuroko Tetsuya."

The blond boy couldn't help but jump back in fright, screaming out of reflex. "EHHH!? WHO ARE YOU?! HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE!?"

"I was here the entire time. I am Kuroko Tetsuya." replied Kuroko evenly, only flinching slightly from the sudden increase of volume.

"AND ALSO- EH?! MENTOR? WHO IS?"

"I'd appreciate if you stopped screaming, Kise-san." He continued calmly, fighting his inner urge to plug his ears to silence the displeasing decibels. He questioned internally if the poster boy took vocal classes as well because certainly the choir must have an invested interest in him as well, should they pursue the direction of opera and shattering glass.

Meanwhile, the flummoxed Kise couldn't understand how a person like _him_ could be in first string, let alone a mentor. Why would they put a lacking and frail-person on a prestigious team? Were they trying to pity the other schools? Did they want to lose?

He was humble in practiced nature but he was quite affirmative that he could easily defeat Kuroko Tetsuya in a duel if need be.

Everyone in the courtyard who qualified for first string looked relatively lean and muscular, and most of them being blessed with height due to their regime. They lacked nothing, their muscles appearing as though they contained explosive strength and their physiques top-notch and worthy of envy. They breathed confidence and skill, whereas Kuroko Tetsuya, who stood in his peripheral vision on the other hand, was the direct opposite of his expectations.

The teal-haired mentor looked like a slight breeze could carry off to the upper atmosphere, utterly lacking in strength and form. His complexion was rather pale, as if untainted by hours in the sun, his figure appearing small and brittle. The way his skin pressed against his bones with the blue veins almost visible under the light of the fading sunset made him look thinner, as if his bones could be easily snapped from minimal force.

And that was definitely not what Kise Ryouta expected. It was so much to the extent that he couldn't help but gape.

' _How did he even enter first string in the first place? I have a lot of things to say but… This guy has no presence at all!_ '

He desperately searched for a reason to make sense of the situation, wondering why the famed club that he had taken an interest in would allow such a weakling in their practices. Every staff member that he had seen in the past month seemed intellectually capable, so what was the reason behind such a lacking person mentoring him? Were they trying to mock him?

He peered carefully at the other seniors in the open court. Was this a prank that they had conjured as a welcoming party? Did someone have an agenda against him?

"Make sure you listen to him!" Aomine interrupted his thoughts. "Even though he doesn't look like it, he's a full-fledged regular!"

"Regular? No way," Kise blurted out, unable to comprehend this situation.

Aomine shrugged, smiling mysteriously. "You won't get it immediately, but you'll understand how Tetsu earned his place in the first string soon."

The blonde-haired boy wished that he would quickly understand why, but by the end of the day, his views of his 'mentor' being extremely weak and lacking only solidified.

Other than his excellent parrying that used the most minimal of forces to counter, his mentor had no offensive alternatives. He struggled to keep up with long fights and by the end of five duels; he was panting and close to vomiting. Despite having never practiced as much as anyone in the club, Kise still felt like he possessed more stamina than swaying boy who needed the support of his partner. In a nutshell, there was nothing outstanding about Kuroko Tetsuya and that he was trash compared to the likes of Aomine Daiki who had inspired him to join the club.

"Can I change my mentor?" Kise asked out loud when practice ended.

Aomine, who overheard his sudden comment, smacked his head, feeling offended for his shadow partner. "What do you mean by 'change a different mentor'?"

"Aominecchi…" Kise pouted, gesturing at Kuroko contumely. "I don't want him! How can I learn from someone that is weaker than me?!"

"I'm telling you, Tetsu isn't weak!"

"Then tell me, did he do anything cool this practice!?" Kise yelled back indignantly.

"Well yeah—"Aomine paused—"Not really," he finished lamely.

"See!" Kise exclaimed, gesturing wildly to prove his point.

"You can't just judge him like that!"

The greenhead who stood on the sidelines sighed as he looked upon the scene with disdain. "Should we explain it to him?"

Akashi shook his head, subconsciously moving a step closer towards the trio. While he didn't have any problems listening in, he wanted to judge the expressions of each individual. "I can't imagine him understanding even if we did tell him." Akashi muttered, low enough for only Midorima to hear as he peered closely at the scene.

"Should we get him a new mentor then, Akachin?"

"No need," responded the captain of the team as he walked towards the trio who were in a heated argument about Kuroko's ability.

"How about we play a small game?" Akashi proposed, effectively cutting into their squabble.

Kuroko gave his captain a look of gratitude despite his lips being slightly downturned, simultaneously begging him to resolve this ridiculous situation.

"A small game?" Kise repeated curiously.

"Yes," Akashi said, hiding a small smile. "Throughout the week, if you can 'kill' Kuroko ten times before he does, I'll change your mentor."

"And you aren't going to offer Kuroko a handicap?" The blonde newcomer jabbed insensitively.

Almost immediately, he felt cold, pitiless intent seeping out of the core members of the team at his disrespect. He involuntarily shuddered, brushing his arms up and down to recede the goose bumps that had suddenly appeared, feeling as if the glares of four different people stabbed him in a multitude of ways.

"I assure you, Kise-san, that I do not pull any punches." Kuroko cut in coolly before anyone else, his gaze like the frigid sea. Kise raised an eyebrow reflexively, clashing with his provocation.

"And don't worry; this will be beneficial for you. All of us have done this little exercise before." Akashi continued while ignoring his previous question, patting his arm lightly.

Aomine laughed darkly at the redhead's vagueness.

"So does it only have to be done during club time?"

Akashi shook his head. "Rather, it will be only done outside school time, starting from tomorrow onwards. I would advise you to not take the exercise or the assessor lightly. Your official membership as a first string participant is based on the outcome."

Kise frowned at his statement. What could there possibly be to fear?

"Let's go, Tetsu. It starts from tomorrow," announced Aomine, who started to walk towards the buildings, not even sparing a glance back at the blonde boy.

Kuroko shadowed the dark-haired practitioner only after he had bowed and said his farewells for the day; although none of the greetings were directed to the person he was supposed to mentor. In his eyes, manners and etiquette be damned, he did not need to show clemency to Kise Ryouta. New or not, he would not be biased; he would be an impartial judge despite all the subtle insults that had been directed towards him by body language or words.

In his left hand, he flipped the dagger still in its sheath with practiced motions, his movements effortless as he twisted it around his fingers.

Kise's gaze followed at the pair's fading figures, before turning back to Akashi.

"I didn't have time to ask, but how did you win the fourth bout against Seiho last year? How did you manage to slip past six people and claim victory?"

Akashi only smiled mysteriously albeit cruelly. "We only learnt from the best."

With the last syllables of his words hanging in the air, he also moved towards the buildings with Midorima and Murasakibara trailing after him. Neither of the two spared him a glance, only following their leader without any obvious signs of contempt.

"Who do you think will win, Mido-chin?"

"It's obvious, nanodayo."

###

There was nothing different between yesterday and today.

It was to deal with the constant flocking of girls with invites to places and the mutinous glares from the boys in the hallway. It was the same plastered smile that showed little of his spiritless crinkled eyes – the feature of his body that his acting sometimes couldn't quite reach.

Life had been like that ever since he became the poster boy of Teiko Academy. It was to walk down almost any street to see his face splashed on posters, boards and lamp posts, and on the flyers that glided on the winds of spring. It was to receive envious glances and preferential treatment even though sometimes it might be out-rightly unfair. Nothing was different. Nothing would change.

Kise Ryouta was accustomed to it. He knew what he was in for when he signed the contract for the scholarship and being the face of the academy. Being the definition of success was a natural expectation – he had to be all-rounded in terms of academics and sports for his publicity to make sense.

He thought it was boring because it was easy.

It was easy to excel. It was easy to say the things people wanted to hear because most did not want to know the blunt, harsh truth. It was easy to hide behind a false, accommodating personality. It was easy to find out things about people while divulging little about himself, like a mini-game engaged with one-sided victories. Their likes, their dislikes, their preferences, were all laid bare for him to pick like ripe fruit, whether rotten or fresh. Tread lightly along the paths they liked and he would be in their good graces, a game he had played too many times.

He nodded along to the various conversations that overwhelmed him, listening half-heartedly and giving ambiguous replies. He breathed a short sigh of relief when the school bell finally rang, signalling the start of class.

"You should really stop faking smiles." A soft voice suddenly carried to his ears.

Before he knew it, a wooden dagger was pointed at his throat and he couldn't react fast enough to pull out the knife that was hidden under his shirt. His aggressor looked at him – as if he was tearing through his soul – with blank, depthless eyes that he could not read.

"That's one." Kuroko muttered while the blond boy remained shocked.

Kuroko sheathed his dagger, offering advice. "You should pay more attention to your surroundings instead of secluding yourself to the thought that people are simple things."

With that line, he walked back to his class.

He left the blond boy dazed, wondering if his vision was thwarted from how silently and quickly Kuroko disappeared.

On that uncanny first day, the last words of Akashi Seijuuro finally sank in.

First it was the hallway incident. The second was in between periods, when someone pressed their cold hand over his eyes and jerked his head back. He didn't even have the time to flail or shout out to his still oblivious acquaintances - though he wasn't exactly in any dire situation. He could only suffer in silence as the blunt edge of the dagger pressed against heated skin, his assailant withdrawing as soon as he struck.

Kuroko entered his classroom like a ghost; his footsteps the sound of estinto. When Kise observed him for the second time, his heart chilled at his skill. Even if he was good at copying, he was sure that he could never match up to the skill the phantom member possessed.

Everything about him blended into his surroundings, his stride, his purposeful slouched posture, the lack of emotions that drew little to him. In the classroom where stentorian noises rang out, he could pass off as furniture, something that was often forgotten but never forced. Kise knew that as someone who constantly drew attention to himself, he could never replicate that.

It awed him but he scoffed at it. There was no point wondering if he could pull such a thing off because it conflicted with his job. He had to draw attention to himself and gain support or he would be a failure as the poster boy of the Academy.

And then came the third time.

Attempts getting bolder, Kuroko struck during lunchtime.

Kise did notice him. While the rest remained blissfully oblivious to the cerulean-eyed boy, he was quite aware of him after the first two incidents. Kuroko Tetsuya was the lone figure being pushed around by the wave of students, with no apologies or looks sent his way. His short stature worked against him constantly as most students looked up and ahead rather than down, further erasing his presence.

It became apparent to him that the more he tried to ignore Kuroko's presence after knowing where he was, the more difficult it was to not be aware. Subconsciously, his eyes would search for the disorderly tuff of teal hair and he would admonish himself. Kise Ryouta would never make a wrong judgement of character – he knew that Kuroko Tetsuya was a level-headed person who would not resort to aggression without a cause.

But under unforeseeable circumstances, he felt a wooden dagger jab into his exposed side as soon as he raised his hand to brush locks of hair away from his eyes, making his face distort with pain. The jab stung, the sudden impact nearly causing him to bend over. Unlike the other two warnings, his mentor went at him without mercy, fiercely intent on inflicting bodily harm on him.

He could feel the spot _sting_ – one that would fade just like its perpetuator but leaving a fair warning – and he was almost affirmative that it had started to bruise blue and black. Forcing the corners of his lips upwards in a smile, he pressed his fingers against the tender spot, trying not to wince as he prodded it lightly.

Three times in one day, Kuroko Tetsuya was seriously getting on his nerves. He was never the kind of person to hold grudges but Kise Ryouta would always return favours of any sort. It would only be polite, he concluded, and he wasn't one to back down so quickly.

Fuelled by his aggravation, he was on high alert for the rest of the day. Every person that had a remotely similar shade of hair to the elusive phantom member made him jump, glaring intensely at them for a few moments in case he was also capable of disguises.

But the school day came to an end with little incident and Kise found himself strolling along the empty hallway, sighing loudly with his hands tucked into his pockets. The usual crowd of followers felt like more of a nuisance today as compared to any other day, hindering his search for the mentor that he internally swore to get even with. The blonde boy scowled at his own bland excuse – he knew that his search was unsuccessful, very much like he was chasing a shadow in the darkness.

Little of the population in school knew that Kuroko Tetsuya existed and those who did know were aware of his circumstances, refusing to divulge any information while showing their amusement. Kise knew it was hopeless at this point – he knew next to nothing about his target while his target probably knew everything about him due to his popularity – proving that the odds were truly not in his favour.

Sighing once more, he glanced at the window and frowned at the view. Evening had come quicker than he expected, dyeing the skies crimson as if they were bleeding, and the cumulus clouds were spread sparsely in the skies. Thinly formed rays of dying light peeked through as they moved to the breeze. As the scenery climbed upwards, it was darker in varied purples and blues like bruises, beckoning night to come.

Wind blew lightly through an open door, fluttering the white curtains at the other end of the room. The shadows of objects moved in billowing waves along with the fabric, never stilling; pacing as illusory figures.

From the open door, someone rushed out, slashing at his open side. Kise twisted his body sharply in surprise, dropping his bag and reaching for the wooden dagger at his hip. His assailant didn't even give him a chance to recover before he swung again, his movements a blur.

Kise grimaced as he forced his arm into an awkward angle, attempting a half-hearted block that only managed to reduce the sheer force of the swing. His wooden dagger still slammed into his chest, splintering further when his assailant's weapon pressed in. The teal-haired boy frowned when he realized he hadn't cut through the wood, flipping his glinting dagger into a reverse grip and stepping forward, making Kise stumble back in fear of another attack.

Not allowing the moment of weakness he created to slip away, he took advantage of Kise's lack of equilibrium to slam him to the ground using his own weight, allowing him to take the impact of the fall.

Kise winced when his body collided into the cold ground, groaning when Kuroko used his weight once more to apply pressure to his hands and torso. A knee pressed purposefully against the pit of his arm, causing him to loosen his grip on his weapon, leaving him defenceless.

He swore his life flashed before his eyes when he watched Kuroko execute his next move.

He couldn't register the pain when the dagger lightly broke skin, causing beads of crimson to seep through the wound. All he could focus his eyes on was the dagger that was millimetres away from him, choking on his own saliva as he stared at the outward curvature and grooves on the sharp metal.

He snapped his head back to look at his assailant, whose figure loomed over him like a mountain. Gold eyes dilated at the sight of emotionless and blank cerulean blue eyes, unhidden by their usual mop of teal hair. He appeared completely unaffected by the fact he almost deprived him of his life.

It was a terrifying look, he realized, because it reminded him of a person who would never hesitate to kill. His hands never trembled. His eyes showed no pity or remorse and it _scared_ him.

"Are you trying to kill me?!" Kise spluttered, finally finding his bearings and screaming in outrage at the attempt of murder.

"Do not flatter yourself," Kuroko muttered, disgust laced in his voice. "Kise-san is not worthy to be the blood that stains my blade."

The blue-eyed practitioner pulled his blade out from the floorboard, purposefully stepping on his victim's stomach as a means to rise to his feet. He slid his dagger back into its leather scabbard with utmost care, not even glancing back as he walked away.

His protégé continued to lie there on the ground, contemplating his next move.

###

"Twelve successful 'kills', two failures and one tie… You've mellowed down, Kuroko." Akashi mused; reading Kuroko's report after the week had passed.

"I went easy on him after the first day," Kuroko supplied, casually sipping on his vanilla milkshake.

"Using a real dagger is going easy on someone? Even Haizaki didn't get such favouritism. Tetsu, you're really too merciless."

"It was a waste to pass up the opportunity to use Akashi-kun's gift. It was light, well-forged and easy to handle. The workmanship is impeccable."

"You're welcome. I am glad that you appreciate the gift, Kuroko."

"I was a test subject, huh…" he muttered softly.

"So is Kise going to join the first-string or not?" Midorima cut in irritably.

"Midorima-kun, it has been Akashi-kun's intention to let him join with or without the test."

"I suspected that much, nanodayo. So is that a yes or no?"

Kise slammed his hands on the table in protest. "Can you please stop talking about me like I'm not here?!"

"I swear, there's an annoying fly buzzing around."

"Is it a huge bother?" Kuroko's eyebrows creased. "Should we borrow some pesticide from the Gardening Club, Aomine-kun?"

"Mine-chin, remember to get me some fresh vegetables too if you're going…."

"Tetsu, I think tape is enough."

"So pesticide is an overkill?"

"The Gardening Club advocates organic food and even their fertilizers are made out of food waste. They don't use pesticides but you can try the farm nearby," came Akashi's timely reply.

"What do they plant, Aka-chin?"

"Radishes, cabbages, rice and barley."

"That sounds like it would make a nice snack…"

"Stop ignoring me," Kise whined. "And why do you keep addressing Kurokocchi as a male? Kurokocchi's female!"

"Nice joke, fly." Aomine retorted back while Satsuki who was quiet the entire time burst into hysterical laughter.

"He's correct you know."

"You don't know what you're sayin – wait," The dark-haired boy paused in confusion— "What?"

Kuroko frowned, holding her nearly empty cup of vanilla milkshake up into direct sunlight. "I'm female, Aomine-kun. I apologize for not having an ample chest that can prove my gender."

The pink-haired girl laughed even harder.

"W-What?" Aomine spluttered, slamming his hands on the table as his face turned scarlet, remembering all the times he had sparred with the teal-haired practitioner, getting into awkward positions and handling hi- her rashly. How many times has he knocked her down to the ground triumphantly? Or pressed against her to stop her from squirming? His mind swam with excuses and horror, getting dizzy from the amount of wrong things he did.

Midorima gripped his porcelain cat so hard that it cracked slightly. Murasakibara stopped eating for a moment before starting to chomp his fries down with even more ferocity. Akashi's eyes widened for a moment, nearly spitting a mouthful of tea back into the cup.

"How did I not know this?" Aomine asked in distress, echoing the thoughts of the other members before looking at Kise accusingly. "How did you know?"

"During the week she knocked me down and I - uh …." Kise stuttered, his face flushing and increased the speed of his speech, "touched her waist - Not on purpose though!" He defended hurriedly, cowering from the death glares.

However, his embarrassment quickly subsided into arrogance with his next line, puffing out his chest. "And I would never mistake a scent of a female."

"Murasakibara, hold Kise down for the sexual assault of a female student." Akashi ordered, his eyes red like newly split blood. Across the table, a long, rough hand reached for his collar.

Lazy purple eyes stared at him dangerously through half-open lids. "Hmmmm? Whether Kuro-chin is male or female, you touched her like that?"

"Akashi-kun, can we not blow things out of proportion?" Kuroko asked politely, shifting in her seat. "The other students are staring and the current behaviour that you are exemplifying is not befitting of the student council president and its officers."

Aomine, regaining some of his calm, focused on the most important question: "Although the blondie deserves a beating, Tetsu, why didn't you tell us that you were female?"

"I thought you knew. And does gender really matter? As long as a person is capable, they shouldn't be depreciated due to the difference in anatomy."

"And the path of a talented female in a patriarchal society never runs smooth." Akashi added, quickly coming to her point of view. "Is that way your name is androgynous?"

"My father's idea," she said indifferently. "Even if the eye for art can be possessed by anyone, he decided that it would be better if I wasn't made a running joke in the industry due to my gender. It would be best to gain a reputation through a guise first in the elusive business. Furthermore, such secrecy would make protecting priceless pieces easier."

"The head of the Kuroko household has always been a brilliant man." Akashi praised. "And Momoi-san, I'm presuming you knew all along?"

"Naturally, since I had to take the measurements for every member. Kuroko-kun has always changed in the same room as me." The pink-haired girl said gleefully, wiping away the residual mirth in her eyes.

"I always wondered how Kuroko disappeared from the changing room before we knew it."

Murasakibara nodded slightly at the comment.

Aomine looked at her incredulously. "Didn't you like Tetsu?"

Satsuki jabbed her childhood friend's hip. "So I'm not allowed to like females for their skills? Compared to Dai-chan, Kuroko-kun has always been better company and a better gentlemen than you are."

Barely even giving the dark-haired boy time to react, another voice cut in, sounding none the wiser. "Don't worry Aomine-kun; your masculinity is still safe, even if chivalry is dead."

"Wait, so you _really_ didn't know?"

* * *

 _Holy shit, she's actually alive O: (Yes, yes I am.)_

 _Thank you to the amazing **SapphyreLily** who still edits my work despite her busy schedule. And thank you for all the new favorites and follows. They warm my heart on a depressing day of school. _


	9. I : BREAK

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basuke!**

* * *

 _ **Considering duly that a prince's court  
Is like a common fountain whence should flow  
Pure silver drops in general, but if't chance  
Some curs'd example poison't near the head,  
Death and diseases through the whole land spread.**_

 _ **\- Antonio, Duchess of Malfi, John Webster**_

* * *

 _ **YEAR XX86**_

He clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling bile rise up his throat. Nothing could beat the humiliation he experienced today. His fingers felt sore from being crushed under the scalding hold of an insolent boy who had wrenched it away from his target despite knowing who he was.

' _How dare he prevent me from claiming that girl_ ,' he fumed, pounding his hand against the table. The sharp pain that shot up his hand did little to distract him from his growing anger, infuriated that she had slipped out of his grasp once more. She had been in his sights for a while and he had held in his lust for her to make the claiming sweeter – but to be cut off when it was time to reap his harvest was something he could not tolerate.

She was fairly easy to spot, her figure especially developed compared to other nineteen year-olds who were still going through an awkward phase. She was an hourglass encased in her sweet youth, her body pleasing to the eyes as they curved like mountain slopes. Her face wasn't bad either. He would have loved to see her cry out when he took her so roughly, he leered, his uninjured hand running across the table surface as if it was her smooth skin. Her long luscious hair - another quality he loved in a woman - looked like it was nice to run his fingers through and tug on while she did according to his bidding, and desire curled low and heavy in his groin. The hips she tempted him with when she sashayed, something he longed to grab, feeling the wet heat between her legs and enjoying her thoroughly. He tensed when he pictured the debauched scene, her back arching in pleasure and her mounds becoming more pronounced.

His fat lips curled into a smirk, pulling out a letter set from the drawer.

Something had to be done.

###

She glanced out the window as her head rested on one of her hands, displeasure coating her like a thin veil. She rotated the empty cup that was rimmed with white froth with her other hand, her emotions exposed through her rapid movements, denting the cup with each turn.

"It's changing." She murmured, feeling like she had said the exact foreboding line dozens of times over ever since she woke up to the ugly headline a year ago.

 **THE SECOND PRINCE TAKES THE THRONE.**

Words could not express her disbelief when she read through the article of his ascension.

Weeks before that, the country wept for the death of the previous King. The country was painted dull with the colours of mourning, even the nights becoming quiet, the moon hidden behind the clouds. The animals seemed to mourn the regent with their eerie silence, and in that month, the flag of Teiko hung at half-mast. The Academy remembered him as a valiant ruler who had given them decades of peace - but none could imagine that their country would be renewed into a mosaic, awaiting for the ascension of a new king.

Declared as the next-in-line in the will of the King, the Second Prince was announced rather than the First Prince, shocking the masses with the unexpected news. Who would have thought that the younger prince, merely twenty two summers old, would be the one to rule them all?

Everyone was apprehensive. They did not know what the young king could herald and if this was the mandate of the heavens, surely, they could not be wrong.

But they were, because the darker colours that the world drabbed was a warning – a death toll – to the breeding calamity.

In weeks following his ascension, the entire country changed and was dyed a different colour.

"It is changing." Her companion agreed, tan fingers running through his dark hair in frustration.

"Our education is being destroyed in the hands of these nonsensical hooligans that run rampant." Midorima spat rather uncharacteristically.

"Changing the facts we know into opinions, changing the syllabus into propaganda." Another muttered in frustration, her pink pen tapping against her book on the table.

"Forcing all faculty into submission and replacing competent teachers with idiotic cronies that barely know the subject. They even harass students freely as if no one is watching, breaking the will of the brilliant until they are left a mere shadow of themselves…"

"Do they take us for fools to not know the truth, nanodayo?" He coldly retorted.

"From your reactions, I suppose all of you went through the _interview_?" Akashi asked suddenly, his tone turning sarcastic as he said the last word.

"They took away my food."

The rest stiffened, looking away uncomfortably.

The redhead laughed sardonically before he began, crossing his arms in displeasure. "I suppose I must applaud him. Crushing the minds of the brilliant before they fully mature, smothering your enemies in their crib. It's not a bad tactic," Akashi said the last line softly, before his pupils narrowed into slits, "Except I don't appreciate it when it is done to us."

Different eyes voiced the same sentiment, involuntary anger seeping out of them. Even the phantom was no exception and she was a character known to compartmentalize her emotions better than anyone else.

All the heads tilted towards the sudden sound of a chair screeching across the floor, the last member of the Generation of Miracles seating himself with an ugly expression on his face. There were no chirpy greetings from Kise, only acknowledging them with agitated silence, his fingers interlocked so tightly that the whites of his knuckles showed.

"That expression becomes you, Kise-kun."

"Kurokocchi," the blond boy stared blandly at said person, his golden eyes filled with tormented anger. His vision shifted to the wooden table, speaking in a low voice. "Do they think that I am like glass, that my mind would break easily and become their idiotic puppet?"

"Not an idiot, surely." Akashi said impassively. "Perhaps an imbecile that they could mould like the rest."

He barely resisted the urge to break the table. "Why are we even listening to them? Why do we allow those mongr- sycophants to do whatever they want with the Academy?" Kise hissed.

"Because we're powerless alone." replied the teal-haired girl. "They are the greater authority and we can do nothing against them. We are but students while they hold the support of the greater corrupt being and whatever we do will be held against us."

Momoi sighed in unwilling agreement. "What else can we do but suffer in silence?" Papers crushed into pulp in her hands, the scribbles and tears on it reduced to a crumpled ball.

"Truths are treason in an empire of lies," added Kuroko softly albeit tiredly.

Akashi changed the subject. "Was Razaleigh receptive towards supporting us?"

"He was," Midorima informed. "His business is suffering because of the new king's rein."

"That is another businessman persuaded." He mused. "It is truly surprising that a plan that we discussed jokingly over lunch has spawned into a rising movement."

"Their presence has become intolerable," said the girl stiffly.

"Especially that perverse faculty inspector." Aomine sneered, echoing the anger apparent in his shadow's tenor.

His childhood friend let out an inaudible sigh and patted his shoulder, silently thanking him for his concern. She shivered when she remembered the hot gaze that the _inspector_ gave her, his suggestive touches that invaded her personal space. His vice-like grip had left marks on her skin when she politely refused and she was only freed from her ordeal when Aomine punched him squarely in the face, so perfectly executed that it would have made their coach proud.

 _A coach that they fired_ , she thought with another sigh.

Cerulean blue eyes flickered to the lone clock in the dining hall, pursing her lips when she noticed how late it had gotten. She pushed back her chair soundlessly and smoothed out her skirt, sweeping her hair to the side before she picked up the books that were placed at the side of the table.

"Momoi-san, we should get going. Our art history class is starting in five minutes."

Her companion looked up at her surprise. "Already?" She frowned when she saw the books that Kuroko cradled in her arm. "You are not required to be chivalrous anymore, especially after you claimed your true gender, Tetsuya-chan. I'm capable of carrying my own weight."

"Old habits die hard." Kuroko stated stubbornly, refusing to give the books the outstretched hands. She inclined her head towards the rest. "We will see you later."

They gave back similar salutations but Aomine shared a long knowing look with Kuroko which she acknowledged quickly before she turned to head to class, in tow of her pink-haired friend.

The pair arrived at their seats without much distraction, ignoring the reverent gazes that were sent their way. While Kuroko occupied the seat at the far end of the class and near the window, Momoi's seat clearly reflected her popularity in the class, situated in the midst of many. She didn't have any problems striking up a conversation with her seat partner, unlike Kuroko, who was an invisible presence in the class and preferred the solitude.

Their teacher silenced them with a look, wanting to start classes as promptly as he could. If they had to be honest, their class was one of the more fortunate ones, where their teachers mostly remained the same, feigning obedience through their fake class plans. The class even reached a consensus with the teachers to pretend to go along with whatever the teacher taught when the inspector was around, giving the inspector no reason to fire them.

The door was pulled open forcefully just as the class was about to start, startling everyone present. Kuroko's eyes narrowed when she saw that the devil had appeared through the door, dressed in an expensive smudge suit, completely disregarding the teacher who was frozen in the front of the class. His face looked oily and his smiling expression made his face look bloated, highlighting his acne-scars.

He slammed his hand on the teacher's stand, eyes scanning across the class with a lecherous sight. A similar predatory glint was featured on the soldier that had entered alongside with him, knowing that his superior would not oppose if he partook in one of the female students. ' _Degenerate_ ,' the teal-haired practitioner's hands shifted towards her sheathed dagger when the inspector's eyes landed on her close companion, resisting the urge to stop him in his tracks.

But she remembered the constant reminders from Akashi and Midorima to continue to remain inconspicuous, not wanting the king's cronies to know that they were involved in the uprising prematurely. She was in the best position to become their greatest trump card that their movement could not afford to lose, and in the eyes of the sycophants, she had to remain weak. She had to be seen as a mere extension the Generation of Miracles, one that they kept around due to sympathy so that they would never register that she was a threat.

But with the recent bold moves that the cronies initiated, she couldn't help but feel her blood boil, craving to show them what she was capable of.

Yet, she kept silent as she watched him approach Momoi, burying her emotions beneath her usual facade. _Don't show your emotions_ , she convinced, her quick exhales slowing to normal speed.

He leaned close to the pink-haired girl, so close that his hot stinky breath fanned her cheek, using one hand to stabilize himself.

"You look as delectable as I remember." The inspector grinned, slowly caressing her cheek and down her neck, marvelling at the smooth skin that he was denied previously. Involuntarily, she flinched away from his reptilian touch, wanting to do nothing with the said man. Her reaction, however, angered the inspector who did not take her rejection as an answer.

' _Once was enough_ ,' he swore as he grabbed her face forcefully, his fingers digging into the hollows of her cheeks, compelling her to look at him in the eye.

Fear dilated her pupils and her entire body tensed, ready for him to act on his ire. She witnessed several occasions where the inspector allowed his emotions to control him, beating several students and teachers alike to ground, exploiting their terror for death. It was always an ugly scene, and she deeply regretted not listening to her childhood friend's advice to hide behind him whenever the inspector was strolling the school grounds.

The strategist braced herself for the abuse – she really did – but never had she expected that it would come in such a psychologically scarring form. He groped her breast roughly, kneading it painfully in his hand and pressing his lips against hers to silence her. His tongue forced its way through her sealed lips, attempting to make her feel as excited as he did.

On reflex, she retaliated against the vile infiltration, biting down on the wriggling flesh, making the inspector yelp in pain and yanking her hair back. "You ungrateful bitch," he snarled, spitting blood onto her face before promptly smashing her head against the table. Taking advantage of her pain-induced confusion, he pulled her out of her chair and laid her on the table, oblivious to the horrified looks of the rest of the class.

He didn't have any qualms with taking her right in front of the class to strip her of her dignity. In fact, he thought it a suitable punishment to defile and humiliate her, breaking her for her rejection and to torture her meddlesome friend. Then he would bring her to more enclosed quarters to take her again and again until she was a slave and a shell to his desires and demand.

With that mind-set carrying forward, he ripped open her shirt, the buttons popping and falling onto the ground, fondling her exposed breast and finding joy when she cried out weakly in protest. His other hand moved further downwards, hiking up her skirt and rubbing against her female anatomy.

Her pleas for him to stop went unheard as the class remained frozen, her squirming taken down to the minimum when he restrained her hands with his. He continued his forceful administrations against her female anatomy, leaving his disgusting touch on her inner thighs, air easily flowing through her spread legs.

Her voice was getting choked by her sobs, her body weak from the futile movements. Everyone in the room stared, not even bothering to help, fearing for their life more than the fact that someone was being violated right in front of them. Just as he was about to delve further into her, pale hands covered his eyes.

"Momoi-san, cover your eyes." A calm voice commanded.

As fast as her eyes closed and a lone tear trailed down her face, it was mixed with another warm liquid. A dagger slid across his throat with deadly precision and speed, so fast that he was rendered incapable of responding. Crimson red sprayed as the light in his eyes died, the pressure pumped into both artery and vein coming to a halt due to his failing heart. The blue-eyed practitioner let him fall, allowing his blood to stain the tiles and her shoes. Before his head collided onto the ground, she moved again.

Her figure became a blur, only leaving behind a flurry of teal, dodging diagonally down when she filled up the majority of the soldier's vision. She stepped past him in another staggering movement, in time with the soldier who was a second too late. The soldier met a similar fate as his superior, his body slumping to the ground with his eyes still wide open and staring into the void. His head tilted to the side limply with a large, deep wound stretching across his neck. More blood stained the podium and the front tables, the splash zone an utter disaster in a show of morbid red. And as if the class finally woke up, some screamed at the sight of the two corpses that shared the room with them.

The phantom's hands trembled when what she had done clicked. But with training, her face would never betray the inhumanity she had committed. Her ears picked up a shout from outside the classroom, welcoming the distraction from the drained faces. She turned towards the sound before turning back to her companion, meeting her horrified blood-smeared expression as her hands protected her exposed chest.

If she didn't know any better, she would have thought that her friend was fearful that she would kill her.

"Kuroko Tetsuya… What have you done?"

The cerulean blue that had always met her eyes honestly refused to meet her stare, choosing to stare at the bloodied dagger in her hand. She deeply wished that the dagger had retained its ornamental and sentimental value, its sharpness eternal, but that was never its fate. She removed her cardigan in haste and threw it at her friend, dashing out into the commotion rather than face her.

She did not want to see the terror she had inflicted etched on her best friend's face, and she never wanted to hear Momoi - whose opinion mattered so much to her - call her a monster, because she would never regret the motive behind the kill.

She was taught that mercy was weak. She learnt that victory was her only option in the cruel world. She was a lady of pedigree but she was not the same, for she would never don on dresses for aesthetic value but rather for the comfort of movement instead. She was not destined to be just a housewife – no – she was brought up to be the master of own household, capable of being a stoic protector and the logical inheritor to an elusive business.

Her body was a machine that was trained to defend and kill if necessary, morals deeply ingrained to never underestimate an enemy and a male's upbringing without quarter: that was the essence that made up Kuroko Tetsuya.

Now, she was a murderer, ripping life out of another's hand to protect the people she loved. Therefore, Momoi Satsuki could only watch her figure disappear to engage in another battle while bringing the cardigan closer to her chest.

And the cardigan was unexpectedly warm. 

###

She did not imagine this scene when she stepped out of her classroom. It wasn't particularly chaotic but she definitely noticed the odd hair colours at the core of the conflict. She gritted her teeth, furious that her sanctuary (or what she had tried to convince herself recently) was destroyed in the hands of a man that cared for no one at all.

' _So what if we're the Generation of Miracles?'_ She bitterly thought. Even though they were always in the top tenth percentile no matter the subject, a back-to-back undisputed champion in the War Games and favoured by the school population, they were still powerless against the adversity that was authority.

All their achievements crashed and burned with each second that marked today.

Forced to fight against authority, turning the clash of glares into swords although they detested violence and preferred pacifism. Catching an anxiety-filled gaze from Aomine across the distance, she could only shrug her shoulders helpless to the questions that she didn't want to answer. She turned away with shaking hands before she dashed forward once more, creeping up to another soldier and silencing him, painting the window he was facing a fiery red.

 _Yes, their kingdom would definitely be dyed in a different colour._

* * *

 _Thank you again to my amazing beta-reader SapphyreLily. Without her, my works would be marked with errors, and with her, they are a little less._

And Thank YOU readers for all your reviews, favourites and follows :) Thank you for putting up with my irregular upload schedule and my little piece of work.


	10. I : NIGHTMARE

**Disclaimer: Kuroko no Basuke is not my property. (One can wish)**

* * *

 **'She needs a new journal. The one she has is problematic. To get tot the present, she needs to page through the past and when she does, she remember things, and her new journal entries become, for the most part, reactions to the days she regrets, wants to correct, rewrite.'**

 **\- Dave Eggers, _How the Water Feels to the Fishes._ **

* * *

_To the Five-coloured Rainbow after a Miraculous Blue rain,_

 _Yet with no pot of gold in the end._

 _20, 5, 2, 15, 24_

 _\- The Dedication Page of 'Phantasmagoria''_

 _Written by Kagami Teruna_

* * *

 _ **XX94**_

Pitch-black Darkness.

So depthless in its colour, it rivalled the darkest of obsidian hidden beneath the earth, hiding hot, boiling lava beneath its hard exterior. So dark as if the sun had never touched the place, that no light would ever grace it, hidden beneath the tiled and cemented roofs in a deep alcove where no Gods would bother to influence.

Kuroko glanced around the room in confusion. The impending silence was deafening – her mind pleaded for relief, for distraction against this all-too-familiar scenario, trying to shake off the memories that she had abandoned in that graveyard of ghosts - but to no avail. Her mind cried for comfort, for something, for _anything_ to stop those wretched memories from repeating in her head, from surfacing once again.

She tried to move. She tried to find a light source. But to her horror, she only met resistance from rusted shackles that bound her, that refused to _let her go_. She yanked against them forcefully, praying that it would break off due to their neglected condition. However, they held strong, far from breaking. The flakes of rust scratched against her wrist – skin that was an unnoticeable shade lighter than the rest of her skin – the friction causing red to appear on pale colour.

"You will receive your retribution…."

She clenched her eyes shut tightly, her frame already shaking subconsciously. She turned her head to the side and leaned against the cold wall.

' _No… No… No…'_

She knew the voice. Even with its raspy and distorted quality. She _knew_.

She heard the listless dragging of feet across the dark floors, smelt the odour of decaying matter infiltrate her nose, felt the looming presence of _him_. Every moment seemed to drag out into eternity, yet, with so much time, she couldn't move a step. Seemingly so much time that a second seemed inconsequential when all she ever did was stand there and drown in fear. Let her murky waters take her breath and fill her mind, soaking every inch of skin like curse. She was rooted the ground, like coils of weed wrapping around toes and limbs, at the mercy of the slow moving figure.

Why wouldn't her feet _move_?!

She pounded her legs with her shackled hands, biting her lips so hard that it drew blood.

Why did her legs feel so weak when she needed them to work the most? Why did it feel like her muscles that she had trained for so long dissolved into jelly – solid without sustenance – when they had been put through hell for the same reason? Why did she allow herself to be controlled like this, time and time again, showing weakness?

"Move!" She yelled out desperately. She spoke the same word repeatedly almost as if it were a prayer.

"Please fucking move…." She whispered hoarsely, her eyes reddening as she hit her legs feebly once more.

Her breath hitched. She could suddenly feel the shrivelled skin pressing against her bare shoulder and the parts where bone met skin. She could feel stale blood brand like scalding iron, the disgusting brown liquid marring her skin and sinking through her pores, tainting her body. She could feel the immutable fear surface, coursing in her blood like some kind of disease.

"You will receive your retribution…" It cackled.

She felt the slimy, smelly saliva splatter onto her, its cold breath fanning against her hair.

Like a mechanical doll her head twitched back front to witness the horrible scene that she had seen far too many times, suppressing the urge to cry out.

The wretched features of her nightmarish figure had no clear face. Everything was messed up – there was no clue where the lines started and where it ended. The eye would twitch sporadically in different directions and often changed colours. Maggots could be seen crawling in the cracks of rotting flesh, parts of meat drooping to the extent of disrepair. Torn and tattered clothes covered the vile figure, much of it sodden with dirt and splinters of wood.

"No!" She cried out in anguish as she squirmed.

Hot, angry tears filled her eyes as she felt similar hands creep up from the ground, not missing an inch of skin as they scratched and gripped. They left marks with their jagged nails and hand prints as they tried to pull her down into a deeper abyss. It dug into her like metal, like cloth, its texture rough and unforgiving. She could make a futile attempt to brush off the violation but the hands too many to number. She hated it.

Hated the rough skin that brushed against her, making her old scars more obvious. Hated how they were her reminder, of corpses, of fires and regrets. They grabbed onto her and ruined her, unrelenting, pushing her towards the brink of hell she knew all too well. One that she once fell into and so agonizingly climbed up with but of sanity and nothing she could call herself.

She didn't know how long it went on for as they clawed at her, tearing away any semblance of fabric on her and her dignity. She was so tired, craving relief that she would not receive. Tired of the nameless faces that she would see, distorted by illusion and yet not losing its haunting effect. Tired of the different expressions of agony, hatred and the whole spectrum of negativity that was reflected onto herself.

Pleading did nothing. Tears – whether water or blood – the different compositions of matter, would not drown out her torment. Struggles to them were merely obstacles they would conquer and leave her in more misery. They took _joy_ in her misery and drank her tears like fine wine, and indulged her so much that she didn't want to call this _body_ , this broken vessel that she was, her own.

But she sobbed. She sobbed so hard that her lungs felt like they were on fire, so much that every word stayed, choked like a lump in her throat. That her involuntary screams from old pains would tear through, leaving her feeling worse. Like the glinting deposit would descend –

And then something in her snapped.

#####

Kuroko Tetsuya woke up with a start.

Her chest heaved as if it was painful to breathe. Teal blue hair pasted to her sweat soaked body. She clutched onto the blanket like it was her lifeline, refusing to let go although it was sweltering heat and she can feel liquid trickle down her cheeks. She couldn't make out what were tears and what was sweat as they mingled together, imparting a salty taste on her lips.

' _Pathetic_.' Her mind scorned between strangled breaths.

How many times had it already occurred? How many times had she woken up like this, tortured by the memories that she promised herself by day would never haunt her?

Her lips curled further downwards. _Too many times_.

The feeling of helplessness still clung to her like a leech. There were things she wanted to accomplish, wanted to do, but the burdensome load pressed onto her chest and her limbs. She didn't feel like moving. She didn't want to care. She didn't want a purpose. She didn't - wouldn't -

But she forcefully threw aside her blanket, shoving her feet off the bed dangling it at the edge of the mattress for a few seconds before she allowed skin to touch the cold marble floors. She shrank back from the difference in temperature, walking out after she touched the floor with the tip of her toes a few more times. She changed into more decent clothing and fashioned her hair into a high top-knot bun at a strict pace, not even bothering to spare a glance at the hanging mirror to look at her own presentation.

Suddenly wanting fresh air to pacify her frazzled nerves, she padded out of her room towards one of the many balconies.

Gently, Kuroko pushed open the balcony door, as if she was afraid that she might wake someone by being too loud. Even though she knew that she had purposefully picked a room that was one of smallest and the furthest away from company due to her recurring nightmares, part of her couldn't help but be cautious. No one needed to hear her screams. No one would care.

She stared unblinkingly at the crescent moon that hung in the sky with the stars as its backdrop, resisting the desire to close her eyes. Just as she was capable of burying, the memories of old were capable of surfacing. Kuroko knew if she closed her eyes, the images would flit behind her eyelids in a series of obscure flashes, reminding her once more of the terrifying nightmares that plagued her.

If forgetting was easy, she wouldn't be like… _this_.

She would not be awake at this god forsaken hour when dawn had barely broken.

She would have been standing on their side, even if her place was in their shadows, being their listening ear and most impassioned anchor. But she was not.

There was no escaping the phantoms of the past that swirled around her, and she could only hope that even if it was just a bit, it would get easier. That remembering would not bring a grimace on her face or anger that was her type of hot branding iron. She yearned to not feel the need to heal, she wanted to move on and not just survive.

A sequence of soft footsteps immediately stole her attention, making her back tense. The blue-eyed practitioner brushed her fingertips against the dagger fashioned into her sleeve, her mind wondering if it was yet another person out to take her life.

Kuroko discarded the thought the instant her mind processed that the sounds the person made were familiar. Perhaps quieter than before and more evenly paced, but definitely someone she had known and scrutinized long enough to note their mannerisms.

"Kise-san?" She called out lightly without turning around.

A soft chuckle answered her question. "Nothing ever really escapes your observation does it, Kurokocchi?"

Instead of turning to reply, she only tapped the railing next to her as a gesture for Kise to come and stand beside her. He quickly complied, adjusting the sword sheathed at his side so it wouldn't knock against the railing.

Silence enveloped them for minutes, the pair allowing themselves to enjoy the beauty of the night. The air was still with no bitter breeze, their scenery seeming like it was captured in a motionless frame other than the stars that would move ever so slowly. Their eyes glazed over the treetops and the gardens, tracing over the smooth figure of the fountain. Their world was dark, so dark that they could scarcely make out the silhouettes of the guards that stood beneath them.

"This reminds me of the time during the revolution you know." Kise laughed, breaking the quietness.

Her fingers tighten on the railing momentarily. "Does it?"

Kise nods cheerily, his eyes hazy. "You usually wouldn't be able to sleep at new places on the first night, remember? You would be up and awake, pacing and paranoid, making an inventory for possible escape routes and places to hide. Somehow, it became tradition for all of us to stay up on the first night in any hideout, huddled by the fire and just…. Talk."

Seeing Kuroko's lack of reaction, he continued. "We would talk about anything and everything but the revolution. What we would have chosen as our careers, our favourite foods, our new discoveries with every place we've been to. Super pure and happy times." He halted momentarily, his expression becoming miserable. "And incredibly _naïve_."

"But they were happy." Kuroko repeated. Kise nodded, sighing.

A look of bitterness flashed across her face. She did wish that she was young all over again. While life had been hectic and dangerous, she wouldn't have changed it for the world.

But while that year had been sinfully sweet in some ways, it was the beginning of their almost imperceptible change. Hearts became frozen, gazes suspected everything at every turn. Old ambitions were utterly destroyed by the reality of revolution – the lives sacrificed, the blood split, the time invested – they were just not the same as they were. Like how they effected change, the change affected them.

"Everyone changed when you disappeared, y'know?" Kise whispered roughly, kicking the railing slightly in frustration.

"I know," Kuroko sighed softly, a specific memory of their domineering figures flashing.

"Especially Akashicchi…. He became a man possessed with perfection in everything. He became demanding—"he brushed his fingers through his hair while searching for the right word—"Almost intolerable." Kise allowed his arm to hang limply at his side. "But we can't fault him for it. Out of all of us, he loved you the most. He treasured you like a little sister he never had, and grieved like a brother who had lost."

Pain became more evident on his features as the blond-haired king struggled to keep his emotions in check. It flickered back and forth from negative to neutral, his long-standing act cracking.

"Imagine how shocked we were when you finally informed us that you were alive after three years, Kurokocchi! Did it really have to be from an acknowledgement page on a book you wrote? Couldn't you have been more direct?"

"There was no way I could face all of you then," muttered Kuroko softly, causing Kise to lean in.

"What?" Kise asked, unsure if he heard the right thing.

The teal-haired lady brushed off his question. "What is the time right now?"

He fished out his pocket watch, not pursuing the meaning behind the sentence although he was burning with curiosity. He would be patient for answers just like he was asked to be. While agitation filled him not to be in the know, he knew that Kuroko would never change her nature of divulging information unless she wanted to. She was serious, a trait that influenced from her father and her quiet nature from her mother made her mysterious all the same.

"Its half past five," he informed.

"The rest will wake up soon," she murmured, trying to recount their old habits of waking up. "I suppose your patrol is done for the night?"

He couldn't help but smile brightly. "That's correct, Kurokocchi!"

"Remember when we first met and I didn't believe you could be a regular?" Kise eased into another topic.

"You were quite adamant for a change of mentors."

"And then the little game we played to prove me wrong?"

"Your looks of shock were amusing," Kuroko replied in a matter-of-factly tone.

The blond man pouted at that. "And that's all you remember?"

"Other than you being obliterated?"

"Stop being so mean, Kurokocchi! You're one of the first to ever insult me like that!"

She pursed her lips. "Kise-san, are you affirmative of that?"

Kise sent her a withering glare.

"Shall we head downstairs?" She proposed, giving him a way out from humiliation.

Kise nodded eagerly, offering him his arm to her as if it was his second nature. He blushed slightly when she raised her eyebrow, as if to question when she had been a proper lady from the day of her birth. He dropped his arm, opting to open the balcony door instead and they descended the stairs to see a ghastly sight.

"Do you think they tripped on the stairs while trying to get something going and knocked out?" Kise whispered after some time, wrinkling his nose when the acrid scent hit him.

"No, they're just idiots." said Kuroko, using her toes to poke the two unmoving figures.

She questioned how her present and past light ended up together in such a sorry state. With both of them equally domineering and stubborn, she couldn't fathom how they would quickly become drinking buddies, sharing stories till late night and getting outrageously drunk. Yet, here they were in all their glory, surrounded by bottles of empty liquor, some shattered and the pair were lying on the stairs, snoring lightly and looking like a hot mess. Aomine's shoe was at the bottom of the stairs and soaked in what she presumed was alcohol. Kagami was no better with his pants pulled halfway and awkwardly down his thighs. Both of them had their buttons undone and shirts untucked, their hair dishevelled like someone brushed their hair with a rake. She wondered what happened to the jacket that the dark-haired king wore the day before, then decided that some things were best left unknown, seeing how her attendant's hand clutched onto his shirt.

"An impromptu sexual escapade?" Kise wondered out loud, his imagination heading down a dangerous path.

The blue-eyed lady sighed inaudibly. "Kise-san, they look too drunk to even think about that."

"True..."

"How are we going to wake them up? They're both heavy sleepers."

"A cold bucket of water?" Kise immediately suggests.

"If Kise-san is willing to clean up, I am not opposed to the idea."

"Sure."

And as if they were falling back into an old routine, his yellow eyes lit up, grabbing her arm to lead her towards the kitchen. She flinched away from his touch and withdrew her hand like she was burned, her pale digits grasping the spot that he had touched. She looked away with apologetic eyes, not allowing his hurt gaze to affect her. They were still a lighter shade the last time she checked although they were not red.

They walked in silence as he led her down the twists and turns of the hallways, the smell of food and sound of clattering cutlery becoming more pronounced as they inched closer. A scullery maid gasped when she saw the King around the bend of the hallway that led to their destination, freezing for a moment before she bowed hastily. "Is there anything Kise-sama requires?"

Her companion merely asked the maid to drop the formality and lifted a finger to his lips with a mischievous smile plastered on his face, as if they were keeping a dirty little secret between both master and servant. The maid blushed furiously at his gesture, hurrying away to attend to her tasks in fear of reprimand. Her head, however, was still very much in the clouds after catching a glimpse of the attractive and charismatic regent.

"Kise-san, you should stay outside." Kuroko murmured before she lifted the latch to open the door, earning a pout from said person.

She pushed him aside gently and fixed her posture, pushing the door and striding in as though she was one of the staff, picking up two buckets and casually filling them up with water. No one noticed her while she continuously filled her apparatus with the scoop and not a single person hustled into her as she carried it out. The phantom passed one bucket to him the moment she was out of the door, abruptly wishing that someone would see the King of Kaijo doing meagre chores.

The pair took a slightly longer time to return to the stairs, careful not to spill any water on the expensive Persian carpets. As the distance grew shorter, Kise gained a bounce in his step, struggling with the urge to swing the bucket in anticipation of their reactions. Kuroko pursed her lips to suppress her smile from her partner-in-crime's childishness but she did not attempt to ruin his fun. It was rare to see him like that, she thought, and she was going to just live in the moment and pretend.

Hauling the bucket of water to their chests, Kise mouthed a countdown. Both of them tipped their buckets simultaneously onto their heads, the water trailing down the stairs and splashing on them, but the setbacks were not enough to deter them from their little prank.

The gurgled choke from both men as they spluttered awake did not go amiss. The pair clapped their hands on their mouth to stop their chuckles, their eyes trained on the two sword maniacs that were rousing.

"Holy shit, I thought I just drowned." Aomine croaked. His dark eyes blinked furiously to clear his vision of any water, even swivelling his head a little to rid of any in his ear.

"You're too loud, Ahomine." The other moaned, clutching his head. "If you don't shut up, you're going to think you're in the ocean when I'm done with you."

Silence prevailed in the main hall for a few seconds. And then someone lost it, bursting into fits of laughter while his partner faced the wall, her frame shaking with laughter.

The two sober men groaned again.

...

* * *

 **PART I END**

* * *

Mad thanks to The SapphyreLily. My critic and the person that tends to listen to me rant at times.

Thank you for the follows, favourites and reviews. They are the fuel that makes me write :)


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